Humble Me
by Priscilla19
Summary: Post Chosen, NFA. Buffy is stuck on the side of the road with a six year old, a flat tire, and a 'sode' of reflexion coming on... Who is she gonna call? BF. Epilogue now up! COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Everything is Joss's, yadi yadi yada... except for Terry, yet another prophesized Fuffy child. Not usually fond of them, but hey, what can you do, right? Oh! Song, Humble Me, belongs to Norah Jones and her crazy sidekick whose name I can never get right.

**Pairing:** Buffy/Faith, Faith/Other (or so they say... (strokes chin gently) hmm...)

**Summery:** Post Chosen, NFA, Buffy is stuck on the side of the road with her six year old daughter. Who' she gonna call? (Spike was right. That sentence will be forever unusable.)

**Rating:** M? I guess... Not too familiar with these ratings. So yeah, M for language.

**A. N.** I don't really know where I'm going with this... I was listening to Norah Jones' Humble Me and got inspired. But the inspiration left me and now I'm stuck with this. So feedback would be nice... Let me know if its worth it to keep going!

* * *

It's been five years. Five years since I've seen her face. I'm not gonna lie and do the denial thing saying that those five years were short and sweet. 'Cause quite honestly, I've got nothing to gain from spreading a lie. Truth is I can't remember doing anything as hard as not waking up and seeing her face, even just once, let alone for five long years. And the kicker? It simply got harder every fucking morning.

I never used to swear before her. Now it's in my vocabulary right next to 'peachy' and 'unmixy'. Yup, now things are usually 'fuckin' peachy'. This is how I would describe my morning so far.

At around 4:30 this morning, I was stealing glances at the alarm clock, killing off another sleepless night when I was hit with an epiphany. Terry had never seen the ocean. Well, hot damn (another thing I picked up from her. God, I'm such a fucking sponge), today was the day for that. So I got dressed, woke Terry up and got an earful.

"But Mommy, it was such a nice dream. Daddy was there."

Huh, imagine that. Daddy. Well, I smoothed that over nicely with a:

"We're going to see the ocean, Ter. Then we can get ourselves an ice cream cone and walk along the beach."

That worked for like 30 seconds before the whining started. I swear to god, if she got any traits from me, it was my goddamn lip. It just kinda sticks out, quivers a bit, and the rest is history. She's got it down pat.

So anyway, after a quick breakfast, I strapped her into her car seat in the back of my rusted Dodge Neon (hey, no poking of fun here. It's a perfectly respectable vehicle) and we were on our merry way.

When you become a parent, you learn quickly. They say the parent is the teacher and the kid is the Padawan, or so Andy keeps telling me during his weekly visits. Truth is, it's the other way around. Terry's got me wrapped around her little chubby fingers like a first prize golden ribbon.

"Are we there yet?"

"Not yet, Ter."

"I'm hungry."

"Terry, you can't be hungry. We ate 10 minutes ago."

"I need to go pee."

"Teresa!"

"I really need to go."

When you've got a six year old, you learn from past experiences, past road trips. So before we left the house, I made sure I had everything. Sippy cup with Welch's white grape juice? Check. Game Boy? Check. Fresh batteries? Check. Sesame Street count with Count von Count? Check. Granola bar? Check. Blanket? Check.

So this morning I felt relieved when we drove past the "You are leaving Lenwood" road sign and Terry stated:

"Mommy, I'm cold."

Easy enough.

"There's a blankie in the bag right next to you, Ter."

But that was this morning at about 5:30. Fast forward to 7:00, and you've got me, standing on the side of the road, hands on my hips (my foreman pose, or so Xand keeps telling me), staring blankly at the flat tire my trusty Neon has just suffered. Fuck.

So let's recap, shall we? I'm awake during the early morning thinking about my ex, when I get the bright idea to bring my six year old daughter to see the ocean. After an hour and a half of uneventful driving, I wind up on the side of the road with a flat tire, and no spare. Thank god Terry is fast asleep. Hope she's dreaming of better days.

What do you say when it's all gone away? The sun's been up for 'bout an hour, and I'm sitting on the hood of the car, smoking a cigarette, considering my options. I could flag a car down for help, but the highway seems completely deserted, save for the last car I saw... driving in the opposite direction, 20 miles ago. I could catch some random tumbleweed and fashion some sort of patch for my tire, but let's face it, I'm not Macgyver, and I don't think he's around.

Then the answer buzzes inside of my coat pocket. Literally. I dig in my pocket and find my mobile (I lived in England long enough for me to earn the right to call my cell phone a 'mobile', thank you) and look at the screen. **Missed call at 6:47AM** and **You have (1) new message(s)** flashes on. Swell. Who the hell calls someone, especially me, at this time, on a Saturday? Only one way to find out.

"Hey Buff. You're probably still in bed, but I was just wondering what you and Ter are up to tomorrow. Dinner? Call me."

I miss Dawn. Haven't seen her in what seems like ages. She calls once in awhile, but it's never enough. Mental note: Call Dawn back.

Meanwhile, let's get back to our problem, shall we? I'm 45 minutes away from Pasadena, with a flat tire, with no spare, on a deserted highway, with a sleeping six year old in the backseat. Sounds like the plotline of a really bad independent chick flick.

Pasadena. I was hoping I could drive right through, without stopping, but I guess this little incident changes a few things. It's not that I don't like L. A and it's outskirts. Hell, if you could give me a choice of big cities to live in, I would choose L. A. in a heartbeat. But I don't have the choice. I live in the boonies, and that's fine with me.

The thing with Pasadena is that... She lives there now. Or so they say. I have her number right here, on the contact list on my mobile. To point a fact, it's even the first number on there. Ironic, since I've never called her. Not to say I'm the only one who hasn't taken the time and effort to do call, since she hasn't either, but hey, I'm just saying.

I could call Giles, and shoot the shit for a while, "How is Teresa's Sumerian coming along?" "Giles, she's six years old." before finally informing him that I need help. "Good Lord, what kind of help?" "I have a flat tire and no spare." Yeah, that'd go over well. Especially since Giles is in London right now.

I could call Will, and have her teleport herself all the way from Nepal to Pasadena, just so that she can look at me and say "Oops. I forgot the spare in Singapore on my way here."

Xander's in Madagascar with Riley, Sam and... Spike. Don't ask. You really don't want to know.

So my options have dwindled down considerably. Calling Andrew isn't an option since he's down in Me-hi-co (as he dutifully calls it) and Angel's well... who knows and who cares. So, basically, it's been narrowed down to AAA, to which I don't have the number, and... And Faith. Who lives in Pasadena. Whom I haven't seen nor spoken to in five years. Whose daughter is sitting, sound asleep, in the backseat of my fucking Neon. Whose phone number is number one on my contact list.

Well shit.

* * *

**A. N. 2:**_ "Xander's in Madagascar with Riley, Sam and... Spike. Don't ask. You really don't want to know."_ Or do you? Hmm... sounds like the premise for a great spin off...


	2. Chapter 2

**A. N.** Well, okay. Let's screw the spin off... for now. This is totally blind on my part, I still have no idea where I'm going with this insipid drivel. I write and see where it takes me, so I'm having fun.

**A. N.** TT is still WIP, no worries there, I just needed a break.

**Jess5x5:** Thanks dude! Love the responses! They make these things happen!

* * *

**Exactly 8 years ago, two days from today.**

The air in the bar is stale and sour, smelling like unwashed drunk travelers. Some would call it unpleasant, but I'm finding it quite refreshing. The lights are dimmed, and the Budweiser sign's flashing on and off in a blue neon glow.

The bar itself is empty save for me, sitting on a stool, and the bartender wiping the counter. He's been giving me the eye since I walked in, and I think I would give him a shot if he had been fifteen years younger, got rid of the wig, and brushed his teeth once in awhile. But let's not go making rash decisions.

The jukebox in the corner is playing tunes on scratched records, and it makes most of the songs I've heard so far skip once in awhile. The guys sitting in the booth next to it have been feeding it quarters for the past half hour, choosing to play Donna Fargo and Johnny Paycheck's hits over and over again. When _Take This Job and Shove It_ comes on for the third time, the bartender looks up from the stained counter and gives me a toothless smile.

"Them guys yonder jus' got fired." He says in a scratchy, smoky voice.

I smile back and finish my pint of MGD, and slam my glass on the counter noiselessly.

"They're not the only ones."

He looks at me and squints, showing crows feet around his blue eyes. Maybe he's wondering what I'm doing in a dump like this.

"You's lookin' fer a job?" He says, tilting his head a little, making the wig slip off his dome to the right.

Maybe not.

"Not right now." I say.

He tries not to look disappointed as he turns to the beer fridge.

"Give me another."

I just see him nod and go about filling up a clean glass with amber liquid when I hear a chopper outside. Another biker? Doubt it. Biker's don't usually give me vibes like the one I'm feeling right now. I bet Willow sent her.

The door swings open and she swaggers in. Ripped jeans, Blundstone boots, black worn leather coat, and hair from a shampoo commercial. I don't look up when she takes the seat next to mine, and I know she doesn't spare me another look either.

The bartender doesn't ask her what she wants to drink, and she doesn't ask him for anything. He just gives her a shot of JD and a pint of Guinness to wash it down.

"Thanks, Tommy." She says, downing the shot.

We've been here what? Like a week? We've been here a week and she's already a regular. Sometimes I wonder.

"Watcha doin' here, Babe?" She says, finally breaking the looming silence between us.

I shrug and down the rest of my beer. I guess she accepts that for what it is.

"I hear Spike is flying over after the prophesy was realized." She announces suddenly. "Bastard stole Angie's thunder."

This gets my attention. During the first week, nothing happens. Last two hours that I'm not there and something this big comes up.

"What?" I finally decide to exercise my vocal chords, and as a reward, I get a smile and two dimples.

"Ain't that wild? He just Szechwaned and bam! His old heart is beating again."

My turn to smile.

"Shanshu." I correct, and she shrugs in indifference.

Somehow, Spike being human isn't a big shock to me. After his soul, I never really thought of him as a vampire. He had too many emotions and human traits for me to think otherwise. And after he resurfaced in L. A., he stopped surprising me. Him being human now just makes it less surprising, and removes some charm to his status.

Faith stares into my eyes, trying to read my thoughts. She's got this crazy theory that she can actually do that. Well, not so crazy 'cause she actually can, but I don't let her know that.

"You're not happy." She says in a matter-of-a-fact tone. She downs her Guinness and magically, another shot and pint appear in front of her.

"Faith, if you're here to bring me back, you're wasting your time. I'm not. Tell Giles and Willow I'm sorry. I'm done."

"Look B. I'm not here to bring you back."

I give her a look that screams "Bullshit."

"Okay, fine, Will asked me to do what I could. Truth is Buffy, you can do what you goddamn please." She says, lighting a Lucky Strike. "I just thought you should know about Blondie." She expels a thread of smoke in the air, and it dances along the flashing neon Budweiser sign.

She catches me staring at her, and she slides her pack of cigarettes over to me. I make a face and slide them back. She just nods and pockets them back into her jacket. Then she turns on her stool to face the three guys in the booth next to the jukebox.

"Hey Stan. What's with the Billy Ray Cyrus marathon?"

_Achy Breaky Heart_ is playing. I must be really out of it for me not to notice crap like that.

"Me an' the boys jus' got fired, is what." Stan says. He's got this blue farmer's cap on, and a five o'clock shadow. I can't see much more 'cause they're sitting in the back, hiding in the shadows of the dimmed lights.

Faith nods as if it explains everything.

"Yeah, well I just quit, so knock it off." She says, in a menacing tone.

Stan gets up immediately, clearly intimidated, and feeds the jukebox another quarter, and seconds after, Dolly Parton comes on, belting out the lyrics to _9 to 5_. Not better, but I guess he tried. Wait. What did she just say?

Faith gives me this funny look. Like there's something wrong with my face.

"What's wrong B? You look like a deer caught in headlights."

"You quit?" I manage to say.

She just smirks, and flicks some ash into the nearby ashtray.

"Well yeah. What? I can't just let you quit and leave me there." She says. "We're the Chosen Two, 'member? Besides, can't let you have all the fun yourself."

I blink and find myself staring into her eyes, disbelievingly. She brings a hand out in front of me and waves it in front of my eyes.

"The paralyzed deer look doesn't fit you, Babe."

I frown and scrunch up my nose as only I can. Shit. She just quit. Shortly after I did. Poor Giles.

"What did Giles say?"

"'Bout you or about me?"

I nod, and she arches her eyebrows as she butts her cigarette into the ashtray.

"Don't know, and I don't fucking care either. He's got Ken and Vi there, along with Will, Rob, Dawn and Drew. And with Xander leaving with Ry soon... He'll manage."

"Yeah. I guess." My answer is adamantly short and just by the look she gives me, she knows.

"Don't you start feeling guilty on me Buffy. They'll do fine without us." She coughs a little, making Tommy look up from his hunting magazine, and points at my glass, then hers.

He nods in acknowledgment and refills our glasses with our respective beverages.

"What about the prophesized child of the Slayers? Any new light on that?" I ask slowly.

Ah. The prophesy. A child shall be born from two Slayers. Or something nonsensical of the sort. The very reason I quit Giles and Robin's new Council, only but two hours ago. Having Giles and Willow wonder about male Slayers just unnerved me so badly... Something just clicked in my brain, and I knew that I had had enough. Enough of everything.

Faith shrugs and lights another cigarette.

"Nuthin'." She mumbles with the cigarette perched on her lips.

"Why do you smoke?" It's random and I don't really care. After everything I've been through today, the prophesy, my resignation, Spike's transformation and Faith's compliance to leave, it makes sense to me to ask such a stupid question.

Faith looks into my eyes again, and does themind reading thing. She nods as if she's confirming something.

"Guilty pleasure." She says.

What I say next surprises us both.

"Guilty pleasure? Faith. It's called porn."


	3. Chapter 3

A. N. Right. Pardon the Spuffiness--wait. No, scratch that. Spuffiness is always good. But no worries, it doesn't last. It finishes quite nicely. Not the story. The chapter. :op Let's not forget that Buffy is still stuck on the side of the highway near Pasadena!

A. N. 2. All the reviewers: You guys rock! Honestly, I dedicate all of this to you all!

* * *

"This… It feels different."

There's something in his voice that makes me cringe. The uncertainty laced in with his rich, smoky, suave voice is sending me a warning sign. Okay, I do realize I went overboard with the adjectives, but I was at a loss. _It feels different_. What the hell does that mean?

"Good different, or bad different?" I barely recognize my own voice. It's sketchy. Probably 'cause my breathing is laboured. And that's probably due to the fact that his fingers are roaming somewhere down south.

He grins and leans his forehead against mine. And that's when I feel it too. It _does_ feel different. Like something is missing. I'd give my last dollar to know exactly what that is, but unfortunately I've got more than a few bucks left.

Spike sighs and rests his eyes into mine for a few seconds before sitting himself up against the headboard. There's a ray of sunlight that escaped the curtained windows and it lands right on his chest. Yet he just sits there, giving his eyes a rest for a few seconds. It takes me a few moments to realize exactly what he's doing. He's absorbing it. He's absorbing the heat.

He slowly opens his eyes and leaves them level with the wall in front of us.

"I can't stay here, Buffy."

I shift myself to my side, and rest my head on a pillow.

"Why not?"

Finally his head turns, but unfortunately, he turns it the wrong way. He just stares out of the window; stares at the sun shining.

"I..." He whips his head around and lands his bright blue eyes into mine. "I've got so much to learn, Buffy! I can't just be expected to jump back into the human pool after over a century of…" He stops himself, as if he's looking for the right word to say, but can't quite put his finger on it.

I can feel my nose scrunch up involuntarily. He looks so different. Like a little boy the morning before his first day of school, ready to learn, eager to become something more.

"_I can't stay here, Buffy."_

"_Yes you can. We can do this together. I'll be with you every step of the way."_

But I don't say that. Somehow… It wouldn't be the right thing to say. Instead, I just nod. "Okay."

Spike tilts his head like only he can, and considers my answer. I can tell he's disappointed: It's not what he wanted to hear. His face turns sombre for only a second before he breaks out into a mischievous smirk.

"You're in love with her." He whispers. It's broken and soft. "God. How could I have been so blind?"

"What?"

He smiles again, and leans his head back against the wall.

"You have Harris's number around?"

And the award for the most dramatic change of subject goes to…

"Yeah. Somewhere. Why?"

Spike shrugs and gets up. He slips into a pair of faded denims and turns to face me. His eyes roam my body, and I suddenly feel a lot more naked than I really am. I don't know why, but I try to cover myself the best I can with the flannel sheet.

"I want to learn."

* * *

The porch I'm sitting on needs some work. Not a lot, mind you, but still, it'd be nice to walk comfortably without the fear of falling through looming in your mind. The previous owners had wanted to fix it up, but never got around to do it. They bought all the lumber and everything, and when Faith and I bought the house, it was under agreement that they leave the pile of two by fours so that we could have a try.

But as for now, I'm sitting on a step, thinking about Spike's words. _You're in love with her._ And I'm thinking so hard that it's bringing tears to my eyes. Confused is the word I would use to describe myself right about now.

My thinking comes to an end though when I feel Faith coming home from work. I can hear her put some things in the fridge before she opens the screen door behind me. I can hear bottles clink together and soft safe footsteps on the rotten wooden boards.

"Where's Blondie?" She asks my backside.

"Not here." I manage between sobs.

"He coming back?"

"No." It's broken and pathetic.

"You crying?"

"No." I whimper. "God, I'm such a bad liar."

I can just picture her smirk in amusement. The distinct sound of bottles being put aside make it's way to my ears and before I have a chance to do anything, Faith sits behind me, wrapping her warms around my waist and caging my legs with her own. I can feel her chin rest itself on my shoulder, as she leans her head against mine in a comforting gesture. Then she scoots a little more into me, until I feel her belt buckle nest itself in the small of my back, the cold metal in the warm night sending shivers up my spine.

God, if she only knew that I wasn't crying about Spike's departure.

"You wanna beer? It'll help with the confusion."

Okay, well maybe she doesn't need to look me in the eyes to read my mind. _Confusion_? Faith… If only you knew…

Her breath smells of cinnamon, and it lingers in the air, meddling itself with her distinct scent of dark chocolate, leather and omnipresent hint of smoke. She has no idea what that scent does to me.

Suddenly, I'm on autopilot, 'cause in a temporary fit of insanity, I loosen myself from her grasp and turn around so that my face is mere inches away from hers.  
She only has the time to murmur my name before I doom myself forever.

"Buffy." It sounds so perfect when it trips off her lips.

And before she can do anything, my lips hover over hers for a moment before they make contact. It takes a second before she reciprocates, and I can feel her lips start to move against mine. They're soft and full with want. Instinctively, my tongue brushes her lower lip and begs entrance. Her lips part open as a silent invitation, and I quickly gain access. Her mouth is warm and inviting and suddenly I'm filled with an unwanted sense of fear.

What happens when we pull apart? What'll happen to that friendship we've been building so carefully for the past three years? She doesn't leave me anymore time to wonder as she breaks away, resurfacing for a breath of fresh air.

Her eyes closed tightly, her arms still around my waist, her thumb making a circular motion on my lower back, and she rests her forehead against mine. Her eyes are still closed. I know all of this 'cause, well, obviously, my eyes are wide open with shock of what I just initiated.

"Patrol with me tonight?" She says, catching her breath, her voice huskier than I've ever heard it. I can't help but notice the need in her tone, and it makes my eyes water again.

I can only nod, rest my arms around her neck and sigh in contemplation of what's to come.


	4. Chapter 4

**A. N.** Well, here we go, yet again. Another flashback. I know you all love those TT ! Anyhoo, I decided to skip the whole nine months ordeal, 'cause I tried it and it was _way_ tacky and you know... processed cheese. So yeah. Oh, and my roommate was asking me when all of this takes place, and my initial answer was "who knows?", but it got me to thinking, and I think it's credible if I say two years after NFA.

**A. N. 2.**This is to spbangel and my roommate who wanted a little more spuffy action. This will be the last of it, as this is people, a fuffy fic. CBscifiJUNKY and all the rest of you guys: You guys are fucking awesome. So without further ado, Round 4.

* * *

I'm staring at my bowl of Alpha bits, trying to accomplish the impossible and spell the name of the demon Faith and I encountered last night when Faith walks into the kitchen. She opens the door to the fridge and pours herself a glass of orange juice, before sitting on the counter near the sink. She guzzles the whole thing down before breaking the looming silence.

"You're late."

My nose scrunches up as I look up at the clock hanging on the wall.

"I don't start till ten."

Faith frowns and shakes her head in despair.

"B. We've been rockin' the kasbah almost every night." She says. "You're late."

Oh. Right. _That._

"I know." I say, and look down to my bowl of floating letters. I'm missing an E and two K's. "How many N's in Kiennstorpiak?"

She gracefully ignores my attempt to change the subject, and gives me a scolding look.

"How long?" She asks softly, jumping down from her spot on the counter.

I stare at her as she fishes in the breadbox for a few slices of whole wheat.

"Three weeks."

She puts the slices in the toaster and turns to look at me. Her eyes are twinkling with something that I can only interpret as worry. She dives her hands into the back pockets of her ripped jeans and rocks back on the heels of her Blundstones.

"You gonna call the doc for a check up? Can't hurt." She says, staring intently at a magnet on the fridge door that she, no doubt, suddenly finds extremely interesting.

"I'm pregnant." Whoa. Not the way I wanted to tell her.

Well, that was blunt and unexpected. Right on Buffy! Anya, bless her soul, would be proud! You also want to tell her about your plans for the spare bedroom? And how you think you should paint the room green, since green is a nice neutral colour? And how you think a car seat would be safer in the back of a reliable sedan, instead of her motorcycle?

Faith looks like she's about to laugh or break down. Suddenly, the magnet loses her interest, and she smirks in my direction.

"I know I'm good B, but I'm not _that_ good." She says as she takes a seat in front of me as her toasts pop up. She ignores them, and asks the million-dollar question. "Spike?"

"That makes more sense." I manage, trying to lighten the mood of this suddenly gloomy May morning.

Her reaction is slow and extremely hard to decipher.

"You're not joking, are you?" She asks softly.

"No."

My voice is stronger than I expected it and it surprises me. Deep down, I think it surprises her too.

Faith gets up and rounds the table, and makes her way to me. She kneels by the table in front of me, one hand holding onto the table for support, while the other lies in my lap. Her doe eyes are fresh with unshed tears.

"You're pregnant."

"I'm pregnant."

"Did you…?"

"Yep. Three different brands. One answer."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did."

I cringe as the words escape my lips. Somehow, that wasn't the right thing to answer. Faith looks taken aback, but she quickly shrugs it off.

"What happens to us?" She asks painfully, slowly rising to her feet, clearly thinking about Spike and how he would pierce our stifling relationship. _Believe me, I've thought about it too._

I get up with her, grab her by her belt, and pull her close.

"I'm not going anywhere." I sigh softly. Finally, something that sounds right this morning.

_Fuck Faith. You're the habit I crave twenty four seven._

Our lips meet softly and the kiss starts off slow, before her tongue forces an entry into my mouth and makes a violent sweep. It's brutal and I know my lips are going to be bruised. She's sending me a warning and I can't help but heed to it. I know it'll only end up cursing me. _Don't you ever forget about me, you hear?_

"Okay." She breathes when she pulls away. "Okay."

* * *

"God Buffy, she's beautiful!" Willow coos, gazing into the glass incubator.

"Yeah. But don't you think she looks like a really old midget?"

Will gives me the stern "you just gave birth, you don't have the right to make odd jokes" look, and goes back to spying on the sleeping beauty in the glass box. My sleeping beauty.

Spike is sitting next to me, on my right, while Faith is sitting with me on the bed, to my left. They're both clenching my hands like they're about to explode. But in a good way.

Willow finally tears her eyes away from the miracle of life, and looks us over. Man, we must look like a pretty bunch.

"The guys will be here soon. You want something before they get here?" She offers. "Hospital cafeteria food is on me."

"I could go for a–" Spike starts, but Faith cuts him off.

"Root beer."

The look he gives her is classic. They've been like this since ever since Spike arrived, two weeks ago. Needless to say, I've been going crazy for those past two weeks.

"Buffy?"

"I'm good thanks."

Will gives us a smirk before leaving the room, and as she leaves, silence sneaks inside.

Faith is staring intently at the incubator, lazily drawing circles inside my palm with her thumb. Spike on the other hand, gets up, and starts to read the cards that accompanied all the flowers I received.

"Which one did Angel send?" I ask.

"The poinsettia." He answers.

"Dude, which one?" Faith asks.

The danger to giving birth near Christmastime is drowning in poinsettias. Red ones, yellow ones, pink ones…

"This one." He says, pointing his finger to the biggest pot of the bunch, complete with little pine trees at the base and an aluminium baby blue helium balloon. Cute, but it's the wrong colour.

Spike then turns to face us and rocks back on his heels. He's antsy. I can't blame him. We've been stuck in this room for over two days now. Short delivery indeed.

"S'okay if I step out for a few? Fresh air." He says.

I nod my head gently and wish I could go outside as well. We're going home tonight, but it's not soon enough.

Spike strides over to my left where Faith is sitting, and leans in to whisper something in her ear. When he retreats, Faith has a look of incredulity on her face.

"No way. You quit, Buster." She scolds.

"C'mon. Jus' one? Please?" He whines.

Okay, now this is just weird.

"Oh for God sake's Faith, just give him a fucking cigarette." I don't know where it came from. I swear.

They both look at me, eyes wide in shock.

"Sorry. I just…" I start, but Faith nods.

"Need to get outta here. I know." She says quietly.

She then digs into one of her coat pockets and fishes out her pack of Lucky Strikes, and throws it to Spike. He nods gratefully, and gives us a warm smile before leaving the room.

The room itself isn't all bad. Apart from the hypoallergenic smell and the pistachio green walls, it's actually almost liveable. My mattress has some buttons that make it go up and down, and it also has a foxy brunette, sitting right next to me. Can't really complain, now can I?

I catch Faith staring at the incubator again, and it finally hits me: I'm a mother. Buffy the vampire Slayer, has finally settled down. She's quit her previous life, found a new one in Lenwood, California, of all places, has a great new job and a new baby girl that she loves to death. And if that doesn't cut the cake, I think she's in love.

"You think of a name yet?" Faith whispers, as if she doesn't want to wake Baby Girl Summers.

Yep. I'm in love with her. I smile. She turns to look at me, and when she catches me smiling, she does the same and snakes her arm around my shoulders.

"I mean, apart from the ones we discussed with Blondie." She adds hastily, the smile still lingering on her lips.

"Well, I kinda like Teresa. I figured, if she came into the world screaming, then we'd name her Darcy. Kinda feisty for a name. But she came so peacefully that I think I want something—harmonious."

Faith nods and kisses my lips softly.

"I have an aunt named Teresa." She says. "She gave me my first and only bike when I turned ten."

I love it when she opens up. It's so… bona fidly real.

"Teresa it is, then."

Faith smiles and shuts her eyes. Just then, Will sneaks her head in the room and looks at us. She gives us an affectionate smile and disappears back into the hall. Faith opens her eyes.

"Teresa." She says, trying it out on her lips again. "Teresa. I like it."

Spike enters the room right after, and tosses the pack back to Faith. She catches it and gets up from her spot next to me.

"My turn." She says, slipping into her jacket, and making a quick exit.

Spike looks at me, and tilts his head a bit. I pat the area where Faith was sitting, inviting him to take her spot, and he nods. He makes his way to Teresa's incubator and carefully rolls it next to my bed. He then sits down next to me.

"Her name is Teresa." I murmur, staring at him from the corner of my eyes.

"That's a beautiful name." He says, and I'm glad he agrees. "She's too quiet to be a Darcy." He adds with a sly smile. "I love seeing you this happy."

A chuckle escapes my lips and I lean my head back against the headboard.

"What happens now, Spike?" I sigh. It's a simple question, but I know the answer is a tad more complicated.

He links his hand with mine and squeezes it gently.

"Harris's got an extra plane ticket, and I'm…"

"Not done learning?"

He shows me a small smile and nods gently. I still can't believe that he spends all his time with Xander and Riley. God, what a trio they must make.

"I will help thought. Financially, I mean." He says, nodding at the same time.

"We don't need to worry about that just yet."

He nods and levels his gaze with Baby Teresa.

"Oh! Her eyes are open." He whispers, and I can tell he's just resting his in hers.

Unfortunately for me, I'm on the wrong side, and I can't see jack shit, and I don't have the strength to get up. Spike seems like he's just coasting. He's staring so intently, that if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was studying and deciphering them.

"Spike?"

Finally, he tears himself away and looks at me in confusion. However, I can also see tenderness and love. His cheeks are wet with tears, and he clears his throat in a manly way, trying to prove that he's not crying.

"Spike?" I ask again.

But the only answer I get is a soft kiss on my lips and a pained "Congratulations." He then gets up and walks out of the room quietly, leaving Baby Teresa and me alone. Okay, what was that all about?

I scoot to the edge of the bed, and peer inside the incubator. Teresa's got her eyes closed again, and she's shaking her little fist in the air. Then her eyes open slowly, and I'm caught staring at them. Just like Spike. And that's when I notice it. Notice the colour of her eyes.

They're not hazel.

They're not blue.

They're dark brown.


	5. Chapter 5

**A. N.** First and foremost, Happy Holidays everyone! Mine were fantabulous. Still are, as they are not quite finished yet. Yes, fun memories, and a gentle reminder to hunt down the person who took that picture of me doing the Christmas Conga... Ah, no matter. I've still got Elvis' Christmas on repeat and a whole lot of fruitcake to enjoy...

**A. N. 2.** I've finally managed to complete this chapter after wrestling with myself over the kind of chapter I was going for. "And in this corner, weighing in at 1800 words, Songfic Chap! He'll be going against Angst Chap, weighing in at a mere 1500 words, but don't let that fool you folks! He's got a mean right hook!" So I ended up going for both, but I'm not too sure about it. It's not dark, but it's not daisies and candy canes either. Anyhoo, enjoy.

* * *

I just get off the phone with Giles, when I head upstairs to find Faith to let her know. Let her know. God.

"_Hey Babe. Just told Giles about Terry. How we think she's the prophesized child. That kid who's supposed to be Gandhi, Mother Theresa, Princess Di and She-Rah all rolled into one? Yeah, that one. Giles thought Spike was a Slayer, but I think he's going to figure it out. He's a smart man, that Giles."_

The stairs creak as I walk on each step with a weighed march, trying hard not to make a sound. It's funny, but since Terry's been born, almost a year now, some of my Slayer powers have weakened. I didn't let Giles know and I haven't officially told Faith, but she's figured out that my stamina has worn down a little bit.

Anyway, I find Faith in Terry's room, silently watching over our daughter from her seat in the rocking chair, by the crib. She does this every night after she comes home from work. Just sits there, rocking back and forth with some soft Paul Simon playing in the background, engulfed by Terry's stillness. I've joined her on occasion, and it's very soothing, just listening to her breathe and watching her sleep.

But there's no Paul Simon playing tonight. Instead, there's some really slow Bruce Springsteen song softly blaring from the sound system.

**Once I dreamed we were together again baby you and me / Back home in those old clubs the way we used to be / We were standin' at the bar it was hard to hear / The band was playin' loud and you were shoutin' somethin' in my ear / You pulled my jacket off and as the drummer counted four / You grabbed my hand and pulled me out on the floor / You just stood there and held me, then you started dancin' slow / And as I pulled you tighter I swore I'd never let you go.**

"Hey."

I softly walk in, and sit on the floor, by the chair, in between her legs. She's dressed all in black, her work attire, but tonight I notice that her left pant leg is ripped and that her blouse is more than a little wrinkled. She smells strongly of beer and stale smoke, and my nose crinkles up involuntarily. _You've been out again, have you?_

"Did you patrol after work?" I ask, barely a whisper over the gentle music.

"Yeah." Something about her voice tells me that something is wrong, and it hits me that it's been like this for a good while now, and I haven't bothered to notice until tonight.

There's an odd silence that settles between us as I gather whatever I need to let her know about my long distance conversation with Giles, and thankfully, it lasts long enough for me to get my bearings in order, and for her to keep staring at Terry's sleeping form. Then Terry moans a little in her sleep, breaking the calm, and giving me an excuse to start talking.

"I called Giles."

She doesn't answer; just keeps rocking softly.

"About Terry." I explain, as if she didn't understand. "He was… He's going to look into it."

"Did you tell him about Drew's DNA test?" She finally says, her voice tired and scratchy.

I don't answer and she knows that I didn't. She sighs, probably disappointed and it makes me cringe.

"I will." I manage, hoping that it's good enough for her. "I'll tell him."

Two weeks after Teresa was born, Faith took me aside and gave me a stern glare and a broken smile.

"Those eyes, Buffy. Those eyes. Who do they belong to?" She asked, hands in her pockets and feet jittery.

I didn't hesitate when I answered, and I was rather proud of myself.

"You." I said, closing the gap between us and roughly plunging my hand into the front of her jeans. "They're yours."

Her eyes narrowed and she kissed me hard and long. My hand was still in her jeans when she pulled back and said, "Prove it."

Faith's voice brings me back to the present as she painfully exhales my name.

"Buffy."

"Yeah?"

The chair stops rocking and I can hear the gears in her head turning.

"I quit." She starts, and I don't interrupt. "I quit Riciollis."

Riciollis. _You quit? You quit the bartending manager position at the best restaurant in town?_

"Tonight was my last night. I gave my two weeks notice, well," She says, "Well, two weeks ago. Tonight was my last shift." She repeats.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She ignores my question and the chair starts rocking again as her leg twitches up and down.

"I'm going back. I talked to Rob and Willow. I'm going back." She says, her voice getting stronger by each word that escapes her lips.

"What?"

"I'm going back to the Council." She explains slowly, as if I was a child.

"But… but we quit." I can barely understand where this is coming from. Barely. Barely, 'cause I know that this has been coming. For quite some time now. I've just been to blind and stupid to pay any attention to it.

"I need it Buffy. I need to go back. It makes me who I am." She says. "It makes you who you are too, but I guess it's stronger for me. It's a thirst I need to quench."

_It's like I've built a castle and I can't even live in it._ I used to feel like that. Before Terry. Before Faith.

"But we go patrolling. Almost every night."

She starts to laugh, but softly, still aware and careful not to wake Teresa up.

"Yeah. Patrolling in Lenwood." She says between chuckles. "Where we're lucky if we get two vamps in a week."

I think my eyes are crying and they haven't told my brain just yet, 'cause my cheeks are feeling wet, but the sting isn't present.

"But I don't want to move." Man, I probably sound like twelve year old. "I want to stay here." Pathetic.

I hear Faith inhale sharply and I know what she's going to say before she does. _Then stay._ Is this really happening? Is she really breaking my heart? Are we really… becoming _that_ family?

"Then stay."

Time stops as she says this. _Then stay._ _Then stay. Then stay._ It sounds like a broken record as it echoes in brain.

"Vi was attacked by a demon who demanded to see _her._ So Vi tells him that she's _her,_ and he laughs and says "Not you, Slayer. Your child." It's started, B. It's started." She explains. "Terry'll be safer if I'm there, in the fold, getting my hands on whatever comes along."

I feel my head shake as I'm trying desperately to understand everything she's saying. But it's a battle I'm losing. I just can't grasp the idea that Teresa would be safer with her away, in an other continent.

"She's safer with both of us here. To protect her. Both of us. Here." I stress the last part, hoping that Faith'll understand that I can't lose her, but a small part of me knows it's hopeless and that she's right. _We'd be so fucking vulnerable B._ _Terry would be so damn… helpless. All three of us would be._

**Well I saw you last night down on the avenue / Your face was in the shadows but I knew that it was you / You were standin' in the doorway out of the rain / You didn't answer when I called out your name / You just turned, and then you looked away like just another stranger waitin' to get blown away.**

We both stay silent for a while, as there's something consistent hitting the window before I realize that it's raining outside. Pathetic fallacy is something that I can't do. The song ends and I'm on Fire picks up where Point Blank left off, and I realize that I'm so fucking angry.

Angry at the rain, angry with The Boss, angry with Giles… angry with Faith and angry with myself. For not having seen this coming. For being so… blinded.

"But…" So many things that I could say to try to make her stay. "Don't you want me?" _Don't you love me?_

Faith gets up, walks over me, and turns around to face me. Her eyes are unreadable, but somewhere in the murk, there's a flicker of desire and need. Her lips, usually full, are painfully thin and set in a line of hopelessness.

**At night, I wake up with the sheets soaking wet and a freight train running through the middle of my head / Only you / You cool my desire / Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire.**

She reaches down and pulls me up by my arms, and when my eyes are level with hers, we just stay there, staring into each other's eyes as she begs me to let her go. To understand. _Why can't you understand, Buff?_ _This should be so easy to… comprehend. Why are you making this so fucking hard? _And I finally come to the realization that I will never fully understand that, despite the similarities, Faith and I are completely different.

"More than…" She starts, and ends up kissing me savagely on the mouth. There's passion there, but it's… fervor less. I can taste the alcohol on her tongue and it makes me drunk with desire.

She pulls away and leans her forehead against mine as I close my eyes.

"More than anything." She manages, and she sinks to her knees and starts to cry. Her arms lace around my thighs and she buries her face in my lap, drenching my pants with her tears.

We stay like that for a long time before she snaps out of it, gets back to her feet, and leads me to our bedroom.

* * *

My eyes open slowly as I wake up, feeling like one big raw nerve, aching everywhere, with an overwhelming feeling of emptiness covering me from head to toe. The bed is empty save for her scent and me. She's gone. She just left me with an empty reminder that she was here last night. _Take care of her for me._

I slowly manage to get up, and I notice that she forgot her pack of cigarettes on the bed table. Tears come to my eyes as my hands grab the carton and as my fingers open it up, the tears stream down my cheeks. And suddenly, I've got a Lucky Strike propped in my mouth and a lit match right in front of it.

As if on cue, Teresa starts to cry in the next room, and the match makes contact with the end of the cigarette, inaugurating my days as a smoker and as a single mom.


	6. Chapter 6

**A. N.** Sorry for the delay folks, but there's this crazy little thing called work... And something called recovery (Man, thank god New Year's is just once a year -)

**A. N. 2.** I've rewritten this chap four times now. And I'm still not completely satisfied. But here goes nuthin'! It'll soon be done, and you'll all be glad to know that this is the last flashback! Yay! Oh, and for those of you keeping tabs, this is the only chap told in past tense.

**To all the reviewers:** Many thanks! This stuff doesn't write itself. It needs some kind of fuel, and you guys have given me a few gallons worth to work with. Baby T is credited to **meetwickedfaith**!

* * *

Two weeks to the day after she left, I got a note in the mail. Addressed to a B. Summers, I knew it was from her without even opening it. It read like this:

**Dunno if you noticed, but I stole one of your checks before I left. Don't worry, I made sure it was void. Got me a new cell number that I want you to call if ever something happens. Tell Baby T someone loves her.**

**-- F. 555-6113**

Needless to say that that was a shock. After spending two weeks filled with pain, Chinese take out, Spanish coffees, more pain, Ben & Jerry's, Joni Mitchell and a few cases of two fours, a letter from her was the last thing I was expecting. I must have read it over a thousand times. Sometimes alone, sometimes to Terry, sometimes to the ceiling…

"Tell Baby T someone loves her." What was she saying? That I had an option to let Teresa know about Faith? And that thing about her stealing a check? That became clear two weeks later when "someone" direct deposited three hundred dollars into my account. I know fuck all about child support, but that three hundred dollars appeared there every month. Like fucking clockwork.

Not surprisingly, the only thing that kept me sane through it all was Teresa. I'd get lost in those big brown eyes and somehow know that everything would eventually work itself out. That we, Terry and I, could get through this.

When I read the letter enough times, I neatly folded it and made sure to always have it on me. I programmed her number in my phone and swore to myself that I'd call if things ever got hairy in Lenwood. But they never did, so I never called.

* * *

From what I've read in baby books and on the internet, Teresa was labeled a quiet toddler. She kept mostly to herself, and almost never cried. She was good with the other kids at her daycare: she shared her toys and lead by example by never throwing any tantrums.

As every day went by, she became more and more like Faith's spitting image. She has my nose and my pouty lips, but that's it: everything else is Faith. Hair, dimples, eyes, smile… By the time she was three, she could carry good conversation, tie her shoes and give me a few gray hairs by getting lost at the grocery store.

Every year for her birthday, Faith would send her a card and a few pictures. They were always photos of beautiful scenery taken from places she'd been for the Council. In one of them, there's a silhouette in a Savannah sunset, and just by the way the person's standing, I know it's her. I got those pictures framed and hung them up in Teresa's room.

When Terry turned three, there was a teddy bear waiting for her in the mail. It was a small bear, with dark brown fur, dark green eyes and soft brown velvet under padding. Just gorgeous. I laid eyes on that thing and promised myself to never keep Faith a secret form Terry.

I explained it as I thought a three year old would understand, and when I was done, Ter just looked at me with her little brow furrowed. But she accepted it like it was normal to have two mothers. The only thing she asked me after that was "But where's Daddy?" A question I never knew how to answer and a question that she would never stop asking.

That bear had made me so happy. Teresa carried that thing everywhere. Little did I know my heart would break only a year later.

* * *

"Terry! Come say goodbye! Aunt Dawn and Uncle Andy are leaving!"

Teresa had just discovered the joys and wonders of wool socks on hardwood floors, and had been slip and sliding everywhere in the house since dinner.

"You know, if she gets hurt, I'll never forgive you for teaching her that." I told Andrew with a smile.

Andy smirked and nodded.

"Sure." He said, shrugging into the sleeves of his coat.

Dawn did the eye roll thing and zipped up her hoody.

"For God's sakes, Buffy. She was gonna learn that eventually. It's like a rite of passage or something."

Ter slid into the hall and jumped into my sister's arms.

"Bye Aunt Dawn!" She squealed, wrapping her little arms around Dawn's neck in a hug.

"Bye Honey. I'll see you soon." Dawn released her and Ter repeated the same little exchange with Andrew.

"How long are you staying in Bath?" I asked.

"Dunno. Probably a month or so. Andy's only staying a week though. We'll see what Giles needs us to do once we get there."

Andrew nodded.

"I'll stop by once I'm back." He said. "Are Spike and Xander staying till tomorrow?"

I smiled in acknowledgement and nodded. "Tell Giles I said Hi."

I gave them both a quick hug and they were out the door. Terry went back to sliding on the floors and Xander came out from the kitchen with a dishtowel on his shoulder.

"Hot Blooded wants to know where you keep your dish soap."

I chuckled and walked into the kitchen. Spike was at the sink with the hot water tap turned on and a pile of dirty supper plates to wash.

"Under the sink, Spike." I said.

He nodded gratefully, made a comment about it being "unthinkable to not have a dishwasher", and started to wash while Xander and I dried. When we were just about done, Terry came sliding into the kitchen, and I checked the clock.

"Teresa, guess what time it is?"

Terry gave me the pouty lip and her eyes beamed.

"Bedtime?" She whined softly. "But Mommy…"

Ah, four year olds. Way too smart for their age.

The pouty lip was just about to work its magic when Spike scooped her up, making her squeal.

"Let's go Sweet Pea. It seems your Uncle Spike is the only one immune to that bloody lip."

"Spike! Language!" I scolded.

He stopped in the middle of the staircase, placed Terry on his hip and gave me a full-blown smile.

"Right." He said. "Sorry."

"Sweet dreams, Pumpkin!" Xander called out from his spot at the kitchen table.

"G'night Uncle Al!"

"I'll be up in a few minutes, Ter." I said, taking the seat next to Xander.

"You know, I'm never going to forgive Spike for teaching her that. "Uncle Al", good god."

I rolled my eyes and a sigh escaped my lips.

"Hey. You okay?" He asked, gently laying a hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah. Just tired."

He gave me a smile and squeezed my shoulder a bit.

"You need to get out more, Buff." He started, never looking me in the eye. "Get back into the dating pool."

My eyes narrowed and I studied him for a few seconds. Africa had done wonders to Xander. He had toned down considerably, had a permanent tan, and had a smile painted on his face most of the time. But now, he seemed nervously calm as he started to play with an errant napkin.

"Xander," I started. "Just because I'm a single mother doesn't mean I need… I mean, I have needs but…" I trailed off in my babble as realization hit me square in the face.

"She's found someone hasn't she?" My voice was low and soft. I barely even recognized it.

He gave me a pained half smile before giving his head a nod.

* * *

I was sitting outside, on the back porch, smoking my last cigarette for the night when the screen door behind me opened and soft footsteps hit the newly made deck.

"Couldn't sleep, Baby?" I asked, exhaling a thread of smoke in the air.

"No."

Terry made her way over to me, and nestled herself into my arms. She was wearing her Millennium Falcon pj's, courtesy of Andrew. They were her favourites, even over the nice pink ones that I had gotten her. I guess flannel will do that.

I stubbed the Lucky Strike out in the ashtray and cradled her into my arms. We stayed like that for a long time before Terry broke the silence.

"I didn't like him." She said finally.

I gently laid my chin on the top of her head as we looked onto our backyard.

"Who? Dave?" I said.

"He's boring." She added.

I couldn't help but smile. Leave it to Baby T to say what's on her mind.

"When's Daddy coming home?" She asked suddenly.

_You don't have one, Babe._ What do you answer to that? Especially to a five year old? I stayed silent, letting her make up her own conclusions. Teresa shuffled in my arms, and turned her face to look at me.

Her eyes were moist with unshed tears and I caught my breath. She reached out with her arm and trailed her fingers over my eyes.

"When's Mommy coming home?" She asked, and I gasped.

I gasped. It was the first time she had asked me anything about Faith. Well apart from the "Who gave me Gaspar again, Mommy? I can't remember." and the "Is that Mommy? I look just like her." when she'd look at the picture of Faith and I on the mantle.

Teresa studied me for a few seconds before wrapping her arms around my neck in an embrace.

"Daisy said that her Daddy is coming home soon."

"She did, did she?" I said.

"Yep." She said, popping her "p". "And she said that their car is better than ours."

I chuckled and ruffled her hair. _Anything is better than a rusty Dodge Neon, Babe._

"Well you can tell Daisy that our car is a nicer colour than theirs."

Teresa giggled and it made me smile.

"Okay. You go on up to bed. I'll be up in a few seconds."

Terry gave me a serious look, one that I had never seen before, before nodding and kissing me on the cheek.

"I love you, Mommy."

"Love you too, Babe."

And she scurried off inside, leaving me alone outside. I sighed and stared up at the sky. It was a nice warm night, and the sky was almost white with sparkling stars. Gingerly, I got up, and locked the door, and just bee lined for the cemetery. I didn't stop running until I got there, and then I stopped. I looked around and suddenly got irritated when I saw it was deserted. In a moment of repented rage and frustration, I kicked ina tombstone making it shatter into a million pieces, then slumped to the ground and succumbed to a crying fit.


	7. Chapter 7

**A.N.** So, I thought I could update this little novella sooner, but I guess I miscalculated the amount of time homework, work, school and sleep take up. Turns out it's actually alot. Who knew? So, I hope everyone is ready for this chapter. Great news guys! It isn't a flashback!

**A.N. 2.** We finally get to meet the 'other'! Gasp! I had fun with this character. Made drawings and everything. If you're interrested in seeing what I thought this character looked like, have a look at my homepage in my profile. It's not a homepage, more like a photobucket account, but hey. I suggest (if you don't want to be spoiled) to have a look after reading the chapter. I drew this person myself, I can't draw for diddlysquat,those three years in Visual Arts did nothing for me at all, but I have fun doodling once inawhile.

**Summary: **Buffy and Terry are stuck on a deserted highway near Pasadena. As coincidence would have it, Faith (whom Buffy hasn't seen for five years) lives in Pasadena. What happens next? Read on. And if you're still confused, just re-read the first chap.

* * *

"_Hello?"_

"_Faith?"_

"_Buffy? Is that really you?"_

"_Fuck, I've missed you so much."_

"_Me too, Baby."_

"_Terry misses you too. Come home."_

"_Tell Terry I'll be there soon."_

Right. So, no chance in hell that would ever happen or ever win the Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar. Let's just face the music, shall we? I have no imagination what so ever, and I'm the queen of procrastination. I've been sitting on the hood of the car for the past half hour, just staring at the screen of my mobile.

**7:27 AM**

**7:28 AM**

**7:29 AM**

_What are you afraid of, Buff?_ Afraid? Who said anything about being afraid? Fear has nothing to do with this. It's just a silly phone call. _So why haven't you called yet?_ Well, that's one good question. And I blame nerves. Fuck, I haven't spoken nor seen her for five years. A simple phone call doesn't seem so simple anymore.

_Well, that tire ain't gonna fix itself, darlin'._ My thumb hovers over the little green phone button thingy for what seems like hours now. Realistically, it's only been a few minutes, but being in the desert with a scorching sun doesn't help time go faster, somehow. And then, in a fit of delusion and insanity, my thumb, by some means, presses down upon that little green phone, and my hand brings the phone over to my right ear.

Both my legs have straightened out onto the hood of the car, paralysed in fear. My left arm braced on the left side, near the headlight; my fingers drumming restlessly onto a patch of rust near the tire… oh yeah: Nerves. It rings once, twice and another half before someone picks up. The voice is tired and somewhat slurred.

"Faith's phone, Page speaking." The voice says.

It's a manly voice, and my stomach does the flip thing it does so well when I'm nervous. Page? How many men do you know named Page? Says the woman named Buffy. And then I'm hit with a tidal wave of guilt. I'm intruding. On her personal life. On this guy's personal life. _Who do you think you are?_ Guilty as… But I haven't been charged with anything… yet.

I have a problem, don't I? I have a right to try to fix it.

I manage a sound that sounds like something Animal from the Muppets would say. Smooth.

"Hello?" Page says, a little uncertainty laced in his voice.

Deep breath, Buffy.

"Sorry, is uh, Faith around?" That's better! I'm sure he understood that one. Less Animal and more Fozzie Bear.

"Uh, yeah, she's just in the shower, though. Can I take a message?" He says in smooth, cool voice. He sounds like he belongs on the high tides of Maui. Kinda like Keanu, but more coherent and… flowy? And no, that wasn't a Point Break reference. Well… Okay, so it was.

"Huh, could you just—" I start, but Neo cuts me off.

"Hold on, she just came out. Here she is." He says.

There's a pause as I hear him muffle the receiver with his hand and some muttering makes its way to my ear. I can just picture Mnemonic handing her the phone, and her staring at the caller id on her mobile screen. _Yeah, it's me. Who else could it be?_ Suddenly my heart starts racing, as if it's ready to attack or pounce or… something.

I hear a sigh on the other end and I swallow the lump that's been forming in the back of my throat. My phone slowly slides from my hand and I struggle to keep it flush to my ear. Sweaty palms, indeed.

"What's wrong?" She says finally, and I catch my breath.

That voice. Like melted dark chocolate. And indulging is like a sin or something. Sinfully good. I wish I could listen to her and not say a word. Wish she could read my mind from where she is and do all the talking. Whoever said 'wishful thinking will make it so' must have been drinking. Fucker.

"Buffy? Is Terry alright?" She says, and I realize that I didn't answer her first question. _Oh. Right. It's called talking, Brainiac._

"Huh? Oh, Teresa's fine." I say, and I never imagined those would be the first words. In my unlikely scenarios, it was always _"Faith? Fuck I've missed you so much."_

Another perpetual silence. Another one of those, and I swear, my quota for my lifetime will be achieved.

"So." She says.

"So." I repeat pathetically.

"Is there a reas—problem?" She asks in a cool tone. _Is there a reason why you're calling? _A problem? She must know that I would never call if there wasn't.

"Um, yeah. I'm sort of stuck and I don't have a spare." Way to skip over the important details. Thankfully, she does the mind reading thing that she was –is- so good at.

"You got a flat or something?" I can tell she's being patient with me, and I hate that. Hate that she's being level headed about this. Hate that I still love her. Wait. _You what?_ Oh, for Pete's sake, just fuck off.

"Yeah." On both counts.

"Where are you and what kind of car do you have? Year and make."

Huh? Did she suddenly transfer me to a garage or something?

"Um, it's a Dodge Neon, '01, and I, uh, have no idea on what highway I am." That's me. Buffy Summers. The Duchess of Sense of Orientation.

"That hunk o'junk still running?" She asks, and I realize we're about to have a conversation. Like a real one.

"If it gets me to point A to—,"

"—To point B, then it's okay for you." She says softly, remembering. _Yeah, it hurts. A memory is just like heartburn, Babe._

We both stay silent for a while until she starts being professional again.

"Where are you? Landmarks would help."

I get up from the hood and walk about 50 feet from the car. There's a sign, maybe 200 feet out.

"There's a sign that says **_Tessa's homemade lemon meringue pie, 18 miles_**."

There's a slight chuckle on the other end of the line and her voice inadvertently chills me as she finishes the call.

"Hang tight. Lucky for you I know a mechanic." She chuckles again, as if it's a joke I'm supposed to understand. Of course, I have no clue what she's talking about. "Gravis'll be there in 'bout a half hour."

* * *

Teresa's been running along the highway, staying near the car, of course, for the past ten minutes. She's the kind of kid who just has tons of energy to spend after waking up. It's insane and inhuman. I swear. I don't remember Dawn ever being like this.

"Teresa! How many times do I have to tell you? No running on the highway!" I shout.

Okay, so the road's been deserted for the past forty five minutes and we'd hear a car coming from miles away, but that's not the point. The principal of the thing is that running on a highway is just plain dangerous. Am I right? Hell, I don't know anymore.

Terry suddenly stops scampering, and jumps onto the hood of the car to sit next to me. Her chocolate coloured hair is in a loose ponytail and free strands of hair fall into her eyes. Kids have the most beautiful hair. Crazy highlights that my hairdresser, Karlos, would kill for. Scary thought. Terry's got these wild blonde streaks, all natural, that tame her fierce dark chocolate locks. It's unreal.

She gives me this strange look and cocks her head as her eyes drift to the right.

"Ter?"

"Do you hear the truck? It'll be here soon." She says, handing me her hair elastic, and turning her back to me. "Can you fix my hair, Mommy?"

I can't hear the truck. Maybe I will when it'll be in Slayer hearing range. Give or take ten minutes or so. I try my best to ignore her comment, but it gets to me that she can do that. Hear things from afar.

"How far is the ocean?" She asks as I finish fixing her ponytail.

"Not that far. Maybe a few hours." _Can you hear it?_

She nods and stands up on the hood, making a little dent in the metal. Her little hand goes above her eyes as she scans the horizon, and I can't help but smile. It's the Captain Jack pose that Andrew taught her.

"Can you see the truck, Babe?" I ask, humouring her as best I can.

"Yep." She says, and she jumps down to the ground, ignoring my "careful!"

She kneels down to undo her shoelaces and does them up again. Then she dusts her jeans off as best she can with her hands and tries to remove the wrinkles from her tee shirt. I guess she wants to look presentable for the mechanic. Sometimes she's just so cute.

Unconsciously, my hand roams my coat pocket for another cigarette and my eyes light up when I find the pack. I usually don't like to smoke in front of people, but somehow, I don't think the mechanic Faith called will mind. I light up the Lucky Strike as Terry finishes cleaning herself up and hops back onto the hood next to me. She rests her head on my shoulder and waits.

I can finally hear the truck. Sounds like an old beat up thing, reminding me of the sound Spike's old DeSoto used to make. Probably Diesel. After a few seconds, I finally see it. A simple dot in the horizon that grows bigger with every passing second. Kinda like those sponges you throw in the bath and then watch as they grow into blue dinosaurs and pink elephants.

The truck stops about 20 feet in front of the Neon and Terry and I jump off the hood. The passenger side door opens revealing a white poster on the side with red lettering. **Page's Garage.**

My heartbeat quickens as I finally understand Faith's little joke. _Lucky for you I know a mechanic._ Fuck.

A man steps down from the truck and gives us a little wave. My mouth is dry and my tongue feels like cement. He starts walking towards us and the nearer he gets, the more I find myself involuntarily scrutinizing him. _This is my replacement?_ I take a long drag from the cigarette and stream the smoke out from my nostrils. Nerves.

This guy is tall and built like a hockey player. He's got JB Goodhues on his feet and he's wearing faded blue Dickie's workpants. He's got a torn jean jacket on over a grey work shirt. **Page's Garage** is written over the left side of his chest. He's got short strawberry blond hair, a pinch under his lower lip, a barbell in his left eyebrow and wraparound Ray-bans. He's probably in his late twenties, maybe a bit younger than Faith. Gravis Page is hot. And he doesn't look a thing like Keanu.

He stops in front of Terry and me and gives us a little smile. Perfect white teeth. God. What is up with this guy and perfection? I look down and notice Terry. She's staring at him, wide eyed, clearly in awe. Her little mouth is hanging open as she frantically tries to understand who this guy is. _He's not just the mechanic, Babe._

It's not until he starts to speak that I realize he's the one who answered the phone.

"You lovely ladies wouldn't happen to be Buffy and Teresa, now would you?" He says, looking very much like a biker, but sounding very much like a surfer.

I don't give him a real answer as something else has drawn my attention. Behind Gravis, the driver's side door to the truck opens up. Boots land softly on the dusty asphalt and as my eyes travel north, my breath catches in my throat and I can feel Terry wrap her little arms around my left leg tightly.

Aviator glasses stare back at me, hiding the eyes, but it doesn't matter. I see those eyes every day. But right now, it feels like the first time. Like the first time in five years.


	8. Chapter 8

The glasses stare back at us -at me. Even at a time like this, my eye for fashion picks up that they're Randolph aviator sunglasses. She always knew what worked for her. And these glasses are no different.

An unfamiliar feeling makes it's way from behind my eyes to the nape of my neck. A slight burning sensation that tingles all the way down my spine and down the length of my arms. All the way to my fingers, causing a slight burning pain in between my index and middle finger.

"Ow!"

Gravis gives me an odd look as I hastily drop my Lucky Strike to the dusty ground and plunge my fingers into my mouth. Terry just chuckles and lets go of my leg.

"I'm Teresa." She says confidently to Gravis, holding her little hand out for him to shake. "Who're you?" A fair question for a six year old.

Gravis gently shakes her hand as Faith makes her way over to us.

"I'm Gravis." He says, "The mechanic."

But I'm not paying them any attention: Faith's usual casual gait has enthralled me into a… well… into a thrall. She's wearing her hair loose, just as I remember, slightly curly, and it tumbles lightly over her strong shoulders. Her lips are set in a thin line, making it impossible for me to know what she's thinking –feeling. She's wearing a black leather jacket, worn at the elbows, over a white shirt. The same white patch covers the left side of her chest: **Page's Garage.** Her blue jeans are faded and ripped at the knees carelessly; clearly her weekend wear; and her feet are weighed down by a newer pair of black Blundstones.

Saying that she looks good would be an understatement. And true, to any other eye, looking at Faith would drown them in beauty, but to me? I'm drowning in pain.

Quickly, my eyes dart downwards and inspect what I'm wearing. Oh yeah. Old comfy Adidas runners, worn and stained, are bound loosely onto my feet where tan Schuh Zorro's and black knee high Gucci's used to call home. My pants are a bit loose, dating back to when I used to weigh a tad more than I cared to admit. The only thing I could use to compare myself to her would be the navy blue cable zip sweater, slash jacket, from Banana Republic that Andrew and Dawn gave me last year for Christmas.

Between her and me? Not a fair comparison. By far.

Then she gives me no more time to compare ourselves. She's standing right beside Gravis, right in front of Teresa and me, shifting her weight to her right side… Settling her sunglasses in her back pocket... Staring at Teresa, tears welling in her dark brown eyes... Staring at me before stepping forward and engulfing me into her sturdy yet soft arms.

They say that senses can open locked up memories in a heartbeat, and that smell is the most potent one. Well, 'they', whoever they are, are not wrong. The aroma of baked apple pie can remind someone of his or her mothers baking, blossoming flowers can remind someone of a fabulous spring vacation when they were younger, etc.

Involuntarily, as I fall into her clasp, I take a deep breath, a sigh of contentment and all that other crap that escapes my lips as my brain associates her scent to hidden gems. She smells like Faith ought to smell. Like worn leather, Bvlgari and a faint hint of smoke. And don't you know it, those memories just come flooding back in.

Smell.

I can hear her take the same deep breath that I took in, and I just know she's doing the same thing. Screw the Chosen Two relation crap. Anyone would know that.

_And I remember... A naturally outspoken girl, suddenly shy, standing on my doorstep on Christmas Eve. Falling in love with me, falling in love with her... I wonder if she remembers too._

I pull my arms tighter around her, bringing her closer, firmer, and she does the same. I feel like Jack must've felt when he huggedEnnis for the first time in four years. Gravis looks on with a sad expression on his face before turning away.

Touch.

_And I remember... Shouting at her on the rooftop of Angel's place. Shouting angry, senseless comments at her face before jumping to save her life. Feeling her skin touch mine and know exactly what she was feeling... I wonder if she remembers too._

"I'll go get what you need." He says. "Do you want to see the truck, Teresa?"

Ter just looks from Faith and I to Gravis with a sage look on her face. My maternal instincts are going haywire at the prospect of her going somewhere with a stranger. But at the same time, some alone time with Faith would be good. Finally, Terry scurries along to Gravis and takes a hold of his hand.

"Daisy says her daddy drives the biggest truck in the world." I can hear her say as they walk back to the truck. "She says that no one has a bigger truck."

"Is that right?" Gravis says.

"Yep. But I've seen her daddy's truck. Yours is bigger." Terry says.

Faith finally lets go of me, and stares at me with a crooked smile.

Sight.

_And I remember... Tasting her sweat and tears after our first time. Telling her she tasted like ocean water. Lazily tracing the black ink on her arm with my fingers before falling asleep in her embrace... I wonder if she remembers too._

"Who's Daisy?" Faith says.

Sound.

_And I remember... Faith grinding my ass as Superstylin' echoed out onto the dance floor. Grinding so hard and fast I thought my jeans were going to burn off from the friction. Whispering in my ear, telling me not to worry: She'd cool me off later... I wonder if she remembers too._

"Her best friend."

She smirks and rocks back on her heels. She turns her head to where Gravis is handing the jack over to Teresa gently, and turns her gaze over back to me.

"She's beautiful." She whispers and a chuckle manages to escape my throat. _She looks just like you. Of course she's beautiful._

"Yeah, she kinda is."

Faith cocks her head as I say this, and does the mind reading thing. _You're beautiful._ She smiles sadly and sways her head lightly.

"Buffy?" She says in a calculating tone. "I'm sorry."

And then everything that was happy for the past minutes completely dissipate into nothing. _You're sorry?_ What kind of bullshit is that? Sorry for leaving me and our kid? Sorry the visits and calls we never received? Sorry for all the shit you put us through? Sorry for… not being there? _You're sorry?_ _You expect one lousy piece of shit word to make everything better?_

But if there's one thing I've recently discovered with myself is this. I'm a dope.

"I know."

_Holy shit Buffy! What kind of answer is that?_

But Faith knows. She knows that one word isn't enough and that my answer is worth fuck all.

She takes a step forward and sinks her head a bit lower so that our eyes are level with each other. Behind her, Gravis and Teresa are having a field trip with the spare tire, giving us time. I've only just met this guy, but I already adore him.

"Can I kiss you?" Faith whispers against the light wind.

Huh?

"Huh?"

That's all the time she leaves me as she leans forward and lays a butterfly kiss on my mouth. My lips slowly part as I answer back and allow her tongue to gently invade my mouth.

Taste.

_And I remember... Her birthday party at Riciollis. Faith showing off her pregnant girlfriend to her co workers. Showing me off. Faith dragging her to a secluded corner after doing tequila shots off her stomach. Off my stomach... I wonder if she remembers too._

We pull back immediately and just stare at each other with looks of confusion and denial spread across our faces. She takes a few steps backwards and looks relieved when her mobile starts to ring. She doesn't excuse herself before answering, nor does she politely ask for my permission to answer.

"Yell-o." She says, casting a glance at her feet, and allowing me the time to glance at my nails. "No shit. Again? Awright. Just give me 'bout fifteen minutes, okay? Okay. Yeah. Ciao." She replaces her phone back into her jacket pocket and looks up at the sky.

"You okay?" She asks softly. "I mean, I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay. I'm okay." I say.

_And I remember... Faith angrily confronting Spike one week before the delivery, telling him nothing could ever take us apart. Spike nodding knowingly before leaving to cool off. Me pulling her into the living room, jumping up and wrapping my legs around her waist, whispering in her ear, telling her how hot her exchange with Spike made me... I wonder if she remembers too._

Gravis and Ter finally make their way back to us with all the necessary equipment. Terry clutching the jack with all her might, Gravis rolling the spare along the road while clutching a toolbox in his hand.

"Okay! I think we have everything we need." Gravis announces. He puts the toolbox down and relieves Terry of the jack.

"Uncle Andy says that Mommy's car is like the Millennium Falcon." Terry says to him, completely ignoring Faith and I.

"Yeah? How so?" Gravis asks.

"He says that only brave people would ever dare to drive a piece of junk like that." She deadpans.

Gravis allows himself a smile and his eyes twinkle. His eyes, now nude without the protection of his Ray-bans, are a sparkling green. I can see why Faith allowed herself to fall for this guy. I don't want to sound egoistic or anything, but this guy could pass for my brother. If, of course, I had a brother.

Finally Faith does something to catch Terry's attention. She coughs. A little cough. Ter turns around, faces her, and tilts her little head to an odd angle. She narrows her eyes into almonds and smiles brightly.

"You're the person in the picture that hangs in my room." She starts. "You're my mom."

Faith just stands there, like she's star struck. Finally she kneels down to be level with Teresa and brings her hand out to tuck a strand of hair behind Terry's ear. She smiles. A nice, warm smile that I've rarely seen.

_And I remember... Faith stripping her clothing till they made a puddle at her feet as I anxiously waited for her in the bath. Feeling the warm water lap on my skin as her feet slipped in. Feeling her bare back gently press onto my naked chest. Slowly resting my chin on her shoulder as my arms held her waist protectively while Teresa moaned softly in her sleep in the next room... I wonder if she remembers too._

"Yeah. I kinda am." Faith says softly.

Teresa suddenly takes on a serious look.

"Are you an' Gravis coming home with us?" She asks, and my heart clenches. I can't imagine how Faith must feel.

Faith swallows hard and tries to smile.

"I dunno, Baby T." She says weakly.

_Coward._

She leans in and kisses Ter on her forehead softly before getting to her feet. She doesn't spare me another glance as she makes her way to Gravis.

"Abby just called. Her two-wheeler is on the blink again. I said I'd be there in fifteen. You okay here?" She says.

Gravis looks at Terry and me and shrugs.

"Sure." He says. "I'm sure Buffy can give me a ride to the garage when I'll be done."

I nod and he gives me a wonderful smile. I gotta watch myself. This guy has already captivated Faith _and_ Terry. I'd hate to be his next victim.

"Okay. I'll see you then." Faith says, and leans in to kiss him on the mouth.

It's a quick kiss but it's enough to fill me with a small indication of jealousy. And before I know it, she's giving us a little wave and walking back to the truck. The door to the drivers' side opens up and she disappears inside.

Then the truck comes to life and disappears down the road.

Gravis turns to Terry and me and gives us a warm smile.

"Now, let's patch this beaut up." He says.

And I can't help but think: _What the fuck just happened?_


	9. Chapter 9

**A. N.** So, I'm a little sad that I didn't write a little note in the previous chapter, but hey. Speaking of sad, I just spent Valentine's Day alone, sick with the flu, watching Bring it On, as it was playing on tv. Hell, who am I kidding? Bring it On? Seriously underrated :oP Love ED in it. Well, love ED in practically anything (I hear they're thinking of making a True Lies sequel... False True Lies, maybe? Ha!)

**A. N. 2.** Not satisfied at all with this chapter, but shit happens, and even though I don't like it, it's important, or so I think it is anyway. Sorry for the lateness, but I'm currently housesitting, and they have major internet problems. Eek. Warning. This chapter is Faith-free. We dohave another new character that Buffy instinctively abhors, but we don't really know why... Also, little game! I slipped in a Whedonverse reference, and if you are lucky and smart enough to find it, you just might have a cameo in the next chapter! Wee! Fun! And if everyone finds it, well, what the heck, it'll be one hell of a chapter to write! Good reading!

* * *

Gravis has MOM tattooed on his left bicep. There's a small bird with some sort of branch in its beak next to the lettering. Typical. He's also got this massive scar right below it. It kinda zigzags downwards, towards his elbow. A tattooed, scarred and pierced hunk. 

The slayer in me is raging inside; wanting to know everything there is to know about this guy. The mother in me is wondering what the hell I was thinking letting Teresa wander alone with him –a practical stranger. The teenage girl in me is drooling. All in all, I'm actually quite confused, and I haven't even touched base with what I'm feeling for his girlfriend just yet. There's no reason for me not to trust this guy; all signs are pointing towards him winning the perfect man award… but it's just… he's Faith's.

Basket case is the understatement of the day.

"What's that?" Teresa asks, pointing at his left arm.

Gravis lays his jacket on the hood of the car, and smiles.

"This," he says, dragging his fingers along the red mark, "is what happens when you lose a bar fight."

Terry's eyes go wide as she brings her little hand over her mouth in shock.

I have to hand it to the guy. Being totally honest to a six year old is a hard gig, and he pulled it off without a hitch. But losing a fight? Captain Marvelous? Losing? _Who_ was he fighting?

"Did it hurt?" Terry asks, suddenly very concerned.

Gravis kneels in front of the tire and looks over the sad deflated form.

"Yep." He says. "Jack."

Ter picks up the jack in hurry and hands it over to her new best friend. Great. Just. Fucking. Great.

It takes the dynamic duo about a quarter of an hour to fix everything up, while I look on from my spot near the hood and try not to get in the way. I seem to have an allergy to grease and all it covers. I would not make Danny Zuko proud, but then again, I'm not campaigning to be Sandy either.

Finally, Gravis get up and dusts his pants off with his grimy hands.

"All done." He says, flashing me another thousand-watt grin.

"That's, huh, that's great." I manage. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome. But I couldn't have done it without the extra hand." He says, twirling Ter's ponytail, causing her to giggle.

Terry's got a huge smear of grease down her cheek.

"Ter, come here." And I do the mom thing, wetting my thumb on my tongue and wiping her cheek. Of course, I only end up smearing it more.

"Mom…"

Then an awkward silence settles in as all three of us wonder what the hell is going to happen next. Terry is probably wondering how Gravis fits in with us. Gravis' probably thinking about the perfect dinner he'll be cooking for Faith tonight. I mean, I'd be honestly surprised if the guy had no skills in the kitchen… or elsewhere for that matter. And me? What am I pondering? I'm wondering about… lots of things.

_Did she really have to kiss me? What the fuck did that accomplish? Make me want her more? Dude, that's seriously messed up._

"So, should we get going?" Gravis says, breaking the tension. "I have some Gojo at the shop."

"Gojo?" I ask.

"Yeah. Some of that orange cleaner. For Teresa's face." He explains.

"Oh. Right."

And that's how all three of us piled up in the unbearably hot car. Terry in the back, in her trusty car seat, Gravis in the passenger bucket seat, and me; behind the wheel, hoping to dear God—assuming there is one— to make it to the garage, in one emotional piece. Pasadena, here we come. Wee.

* * *

I think I've found my ninth layer of hell. What was I thinking when I turned on the radio to break the intimidating awkward silence? Bryan, Bonnie and Gravis are belting out the lyrics to Rock Steady while Teresa hums along in the back. And the funny part? Mister Amazing has no singing talent whatsoever. I'm up to the point where I don't know if I'll burst out laughing or break down crying. Guess laughing is better for facial muscles. 

"… You need a rock, not a rollin' stone, so when a boy just ain't enough and you wanna man made of stronger stuff…" He croons in a horrible falsetto, a smile painted on his face. "What's so funny?" He asks, staring at me, his smile slowly becoming a grin.

"Nothing." I say, but my fingers magically find themselves on the volume button, and thus, Bonnie and Bryan find themselves reduced to background noise.

Teresa doesn't seem to mind as she grabs the latest Pal'n'Gals Double Digest and gets lost with Jughead and Betty and the rest of Archie's posse. Gravis gets the hint and reduces his singing to a slight humming.

"Take a left at the stop sign." He finally says, staring out the door window.

I nod and wonder how long this little façade we've got built is going to last. How long before he starts treating me like his girlfriends ex and not like his long lost college buddy.

"So…" I start. "Faith works for you?" As a good a start as any, I suppose.

He turns his head, and I want to see the look in his eyes when he answers, but unfortunately, my eyes bounce back to me from the reflection of his Ray-bans.

"Only on weekends." He says. "She does Council stuff during the week."

Oh. Right.

"So you know about Slayers?" I ask, and I can't help but smirk in his direction.

"Make a right at the set of lights." He says, then adds, "Yeah."

I nod. "Cool." Can this be anymore pathetic?

"Mommy is the original Slayer." Terry says from behind the pages of her comic book, like it's common knowledge or something.

My eyes do the rolling thing and Gravis turns in his seat to face her.

"I know." He says, lowering his shades on the bridge of his nose. "Now that's cool."

Terry nods and goes back to her book. Gravis twists back into place and gives me a sidelong glance.

"Here." He says, pointing to a sophisticated looking building, complete with three garage doors and a neon red sign that reads **Page's Garage**. A smaller sign informs that the special of the month is a free tire rotation with every oil change. So. Downtown Pasadena. Nice.

"Thanks for the lift." He says, stepping out of the car.

"Thanks for the tire." I reply stupidly, suddenly remembering that a mechanic's service is rarely free. "How much do I owe you?"

"We'll talk about it inside." He says, opening the door for Terry before swinging her in the air and propping her on his shoulders.

I lock the car up and follow them to where the door's being held open by a rubber door stopper. Gravis sidesteps and lets me go in first; his eyes, an opal green twinkling in the sun are smiling and honest. It's when I see Terry wearing his sunglasses that I throw all my worries and trust issues about him out the window. Good riddance.

The inside of the garage lobby is clean and doesn't smell of motor oil like Larry's Garage, in Lenwood. It smells like orange zest. Kinda welcoming. Posters and pictures cover the walls tastefully. Posters of NASCAR and various car brands. Framed pictures of staff parties and past employees of the month. I catch Gravis, Faith and another guy in one of them, all of them sitting at a table, looking silly and drunk, wearing wool hats with ear flaps. Orange and red. Even with the happiness and all, Faith looks like she's not totally there... I dunno. It's weird. Like she's pretending to be... happy.

I'm just about to ask Gravis when this was taken when his voice makes its way to my ears.

"Hey Jo." He says to someone behind the counter. "Anything new since this morning?"

"I dunno 'bout you, but you got a kid on your shoulders."

When I finally tear myself away from the picture on the wall, and make my way next to him, my eyes land on who he's talking to.

"Seems to me that's new." Jo continues, and Gravis smiles.

Turns out Jo is a petite blonde with crazy green eyes, and a strong stature. She's got a white Stetson on her head, and two French braids slipping from underneath. She's got the same jacket Gravis and Faith had on their backs earlier this morning, except hers is a light shade of pink, stained with grease and crass. Ten bucks says: Sister.

"Jo, this here is Teresa." He says, lifting Ter from his shoulders and sitting her on the countertop. "Faith's daughter."

Jo's eyes go wide as she tilts her Stetson back a bit to get a better look.

"And this is Buffy. Teresa's mom." Gravis goes on. "Buffy, Teresa, this is Josephine, my big sister."

_Score!_

"No shit!" Jo whispers softly, before covering her mouth with her hand, but we still all heard. "I mean, howdy."

Terry giggles and Gravis frowns slightly in his sister's direction.

_Hello?_ This bonding session is nice and all, but… For fuck's sake. Come on!

"Jo, hand me the Gojo." Gravis says and Josephine hands him an orange bottle, and in turn, he hands it over to me. "For Teresa's face." He explains.

"Gotcha." I manage, still staring at Jo. Fortunately, she's staring at Terry, mesmerized or something, so she doesn't catch me. She doesn't, but Gravis does.

"Jo, would mind cleaning Teresa up, while Buffy and I take care of… payment?" He says, grabbing hold of the bottle from my grasp and handing it back to his sister.

"Sure." She says, giving us a quick look as she helps Terry off the counter. "C'mon Ter."

My teeth involuntarily cringe as I hear her say Teresa's name like that. No one but Dawn andI have ever call her that.

_Why you jealous, Buff?_ They both disappear in the back and Gravis moves behind the counter and studies what looks to be an appointment sheet. When he finally looks up, his eyes are serious and the twinkle is gone.

"So? What do I owe you?" It's cold and not fair for a guy who's only shown Terry and I affection. But I just want this morning to end. Just head off to the ocean and forget everything. _Fuck Faith… Why are you so hard to forget?_

"Well, Faith and I decided that…"

"Excuse me? I don't want your pity tire. I'm going to pay for this."

Gravis gives me an amused look and keeps going.

"We decided that maybe you and Teresa could treat us to dinner." He finishes.

It takes me a few seconds before it sinks it. _What?_

"Oh."

He ducks his head a little, as he waits for an answer.

"Oh." I say again. Dinner. Dinner with Faith. Well fuck a duck and fuck it hard. Just five minutes with her this morning and we ended up kissing and in a state of confusion. Now she wants dinner? _Treat _us_ to dinner._

"Us?" I say, and I surprise myself with the amount of jealousy that slipped in.

Gravis grins and a chuckle escapes his throat.

"Yeah. Faith and me."

"Oh." God, you'd think I didn't have anymore words in my incredibly vast vocabulary.

"Are you jealous of my sister?" He asks, suddenly. Too suddenly.

"What?"

"You know, if there's anyone you have a right to be jealous of, it's me. Not Jo." He says slowly.

My eyes narrow as I take a deep breath.

"Look. I'm not jealous of anyone, least of all your sister. I mean, that doesn't make any sense. As for dinner? Fine. Sure. It would make Terry happy and that's… Dinner is fine."

"Awesome." He smiles. "Bravo Bravo at 7 okay?"

I can only nod as Terry comes out looking fresh and clean-wearing Josephine's Stetson. Where the fuck have we landed? The Twilight Zone?

"C'mon, Ter. Give Jo her hat back. We're heading out. We have a date with the Ocean, 'member?"

Terry frowns as she hands the hat back and sulks my way.

"Can Gravis come with us?" She asks, hopeful, and I hate to break her heart.

Thankfully, Gravis takes care of this.

"No can do. I have some work to finish here before tonight." He says, handing her his sunglasses. "You can have them for today. I think it'll be sunny at the beach."

Teresa's eyes grow wide as she eagerly puts them on.

"I'll take good care of them." She says solemnly. Then her brow furrows a little and I know she's thinking about something. "What's tonight?"


	10. Chapter 10

**A. N.** When I was a waitress a few years back, I used to work with this girl from Quebec named Mylène; pronounced Meelenne. Sweetest girl ever. Anyway, she hated it when English customers called her Mylene, like if she were straight from Texas. Just thought it'd be funny to slip this in.

**A. N. 2. **There are credits due for this chapter. No one got the Whedonverse reference, I'm cameoing (sp? real word?) those of you who gave it a try anyway. So here we go. In order of appearance.

_Girl on the beach -- Jess5x5  
Mylene -- Blonde101  
Girl in the washroom -- CBscifiJUNKY_

* * *

The ocean is everything an ocean should be. It's sunny, wet and soothing. Three things a girl can't ever live without. The beach, too, is everything a beach should be. Dry, sandy and incredibly crowded. Which is good, 'cause I don't need anymore surprises today. At least, not until tonight.

Terry is running barefoot in the soft sand, skimming the fresh tide with every step she takes. She twirls here and there, showing me happy smiles and throwing me odd pieces of sanded glass and ugly seashells.

"What are you gonna do with all these things, Ter?"

"Start a collection."

Which in other words means: 'Start a shoe box full of stuff that will collect dust and stay hidden under the bed for decades'.

She dumps a handful of wet glass, clinging with sand, into her little plastic bucket and scurries along the shore once again, leaving me to follow behind.

And I take this time to bask in Ter's happiness, to think about our peculiar morning, to predict tonight's wild adventure and to simply… think about her. _Her._

Of all the people in the world who knew Faith and me, I think Wesley was the one who figured it out best. _Don't let your feelings for her get in the way_. Or something like that. Wes. Bless his soul.

My feelings for her have always gotten in the way. Even when she came back to Sunnydale to help us fight The First. Those same feelings. They were there. Blocking the way in our quest to build a tentative friendship. I knew it and so did she. I still have no idea how we ended up together. And now it's happening again. Those same feelings. They're here.

Terry runs over to me, her blue flowered shorts wet with ocean water, sand to her elbows, and smelling of sunscreen. I love this kid to death.

"Mommy!" She exclaims wildly, throwing herself in my arms, making me drop our shoes and bag.

"Ter!" I reply in the same enthusiasm.

"Is it ice cream time?" She asks, pulling back to look me in the eye, showing me one little dimple in her right cheek.

"I dunno. Is it?"

"I think so." She says, nodding sagely, throwing a glance to the ice cream stand near a group of palm trees.

"I think you might be right."

She nods again: her way of showing me that she agrees with me, and wraps her arms around my neck. The universal kid sign for "hold me". It's one of my favourite. How much longer will I be able to hold her like this?

So I place her on my hip and make my way to the ice cream stand, where I stand in line behind some guy wearing a loose poncho and a fishing hat, complete with tackle and… more fishing gear. When it's finally our turn, Terry places our order and studies the vendor carefully as he scoops the ice cream from the tubs, and into the cones.

When the cones are bought and a bench is found, we sit down and just relax quietly. Terry licks away at the melting ice cream, and stares out into the growing crowd of people walking in the sand while I rehash the possible outcomes of tonight's dinner.

Finally, when one of the outcomes doesn't end with me jumping on Faith, claiming her in front of her perfect boyfriend, Terry suddenly places her hand on my arm and adds a little pressure with her fingers.

"Ter?"

She has a look of concentration in her eyes which tells me she's about to say something incredibly intuitive for a six year old. She takes another lick at her cone and rests her head on my arm.

"You see that girl?" She asks me, pointing towards a group of people near the shore.

There are about ten girls in that group, but I instinctively know which one she's talking about. There's a girl, on the beach, standing softly in the wet sand, letting the tide swirl around her ankles carelessly, casting her eyes into the horizon as the wind blows through her hair. I don't mean to sound poetic and like a cheap drugstore harlequin novel, but she's doing just that.

"Yeah." I say. "What about her?"

"She looks happy." Terry says, shrugging off the moment casually, going back to her ice cream.

_She looks happy._ _Why don't you look happy, Mommy? _The girl really does look happy. She seems to be all about the glowing and the basking in the sun. Wish I could be like that. I was, I guess, once upon a time, like that. But… That was before… before the craziness. Why don't I look happy anymore? Has Teresa ever seen me happy? Will she ever see me happy? They sound like forbidden matters. And I'm looking for answers to questions that I can't possibly begin to ask.

So in light of all of that, I suddenly remember to call Dawn back, and make the mistake of telling her about my dinner plans. After the shrill laughter and hysteria, there's a slight pause.

"Dawn?"

"Are you serious?"

"No. But when September rolls along, I'm thinking of enrolling Teresa in Circus School. I bet she'd be a killer on the unicycle."

"Buffy. Are you okay with this?" Dawn asks, concern laced into her voice.

"Well, I did agree to it, so I guess on some level I am ready. But… I really don't know. I guess we'll see after tonight."

After she wishes me luck and we hang up, Ter gives me an odd look.

"Are you really gonna make me go to Circus School?"

* * *

"_When you were me. Did it feel like… Like you belonged? Like it was right? Did you feel happy?"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Could you have lived your life like that?"_

"_No."_

"_Why not?"_

"_I'm not you. And you're not me. It just… came out that way. It didn't have to happen. But… it did."_

"_Do you love me?"_

"_Wouldn't be here if I didn't."_

* * *

So dinner starts off wonderfully. Faith is late and Gravis is explaining to us exactly how he got his massive scar. I can tell it's the G-rated version, for Terry's sake, and it really sucks, despite the fact that he's really enthused about it.

"Now I'm irritated. Completely. So then I'm all like, 'Oh yeah? You think you're tough stuff?' and the person turns around and it's a woman. So I freeze, right? Not knowing what to do. I don't wanna fight a girl, yanno?" He says, and I feel Faith arriving. "So she goes 'Don't waste my time.'" He finishes.

"If I remember correctly, I said 'You challenge girls to fights often, beach boy?'" Faith says as she settles in at our table, giving Gravis a sly grin, and I almost choke on my MGD.

"You gave Gravis that scar?" Ter asks, horrified.

Faith takes on a look of panic as she suddenly doesn't want to look like the bad guy in her daughter's eyes.

"It wasn't on purpose." She says finally. "Was an accident." And I see her poke Gravis in the ribs with her elbow.

"Yeah." He adds hurriedly.

Right. Like that'll convince Teresa. But she buys it and nods her little head.

"Wow." She says. "We went to the beach." She adds completely off topic.

Just when Faith is about to say something about that, our sever, Mylene, if we go by her nametag, comes by to take Faith's drink order.

"Anything to drink?" Mylene asks in Faith's direction.

Faith casts a look towards my beer and gives me a hard look.

"Perrier. With a few lemon wedges." She says finally, tearing her gaze away from me and back to Mylene.

Mylene nods.

"Sure thing." She says.

"Thanks Doll." Faith drawls sensually in her direction.

Mylene saunters away with Faith clearly checking her out. Gravis notices too and grins. _What the hell?_

"8" Faith says.

Gravis nods.

"8.5." He says.

"Generous, as always."

Okay, seriously. Rate the waitress? Come on. Thankfully, Terry doesn't catch on and settles on watching some kids play on the few arcade games in a corner. If she's feeling anything about this dinner with Faith, she doesn't let it show one bit. Gravis catches her look and smiles.

"Terry and I are going to check out the arcade." He says, getting up, and picking Ter up from her booster seat.

I nod thankfully and let my gaze settle back on Faith. Faith. Who's been cool as a cucumber; who's been flirting openly with the waitress; who's been anything but nervous. She's sitting lazily, with an arm laced casually over the back of her chair, staring back at me. Her face is clean and free of any make up save for some clear lip-gloss. Her hair is loose and tumbles gently over her shoulders. She's wearing—get this— a pink tank top and painted on faded jeans. She's got flip flops on her feet: Another surprise.

"Hey." I say softly, and it surprises me that I'm the one who spoke first. I think she's surprised too.

"Hey." She says, and I can see that some nervousness is finally slipping in. Thank God. We're finally on the same level.

We're interrupted once more when Mylene comes back with Faith's Perrier and when she disappears again, an awkward silence settles in until both of us can't take it anymore.

"Gotta go to the washroom." She says as I say, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

We both freeze and stare at each other with an immense sense of… fear? Is that what I'm sensing? She slowly gets up and makes her way through the restaurant to the ladies room as I dottily follow behind.

She opens the door and goes straight to the counter and leans herself forward on her arms, with her head down. I just lean against one of the stall doors and look at her reflection in the mirror. She sighs deeply and lifts her head back up and stares at herself in the mirror. Maybe she's looking at me, but I can't really tell.

"This has been one wild day." She says softly, still staring in the mirror.

"Tell me about it." I breathe and she lets herself smile.

"I've missed you." She says suddenly, and it takes me by surprise. _Really?_

So much so that I somehow fall backwards and end up on my back on the cold and dirty tiled floor. Which is odd, since I was leaning on a stall door.

"B?" Faith asks standing over me beside this other girl. Wait. I thought we were two in here.

"Are you okay? I'm real sorry." This girl says. "I didn't know you were leaning against the door."

Oh. _I didn't know anyone was in there._

"S'okay. My fault really." I mumble as I take Faith's outstretched hand and heave myself up.

"Are you sure? I could go get some ice or something." This girl says, all concerned and everything.

I'm just about to answer when Faith does for me.

"Sounds like a plan." She says, ushering this girl out of the bathroom, literally pushing her towards the door.

"I'll be right back." I hear the other girl say before Faith shuts the door and locks it.

She leans her back against it and sighs.

"You okay?" She breathes.

"Five by." I say and she smirks.

She looks around the room a bit and settles her eyes on the tampon dispenser.

"You smoke now?" She says, unexpectedly.

_You sober now? Perrier instead of Jack? Instead of… me?_ Guess she tasted that this morning when…

"When you left," I start and she cringes, as her eyes are still on the dispenser, "you forgot your pack of smokes. I dunno. Seemed wrong to throw them away, somehow."

Faith does that half nod she's mastered throughout the years. She just kinda tilts her head back, but you never actually see her bring it back down.

"I'm sorry for this morning." She says, finally looking at me.

"Don't sweat it."

She blinks and nods, this time fully, before sighing again.

"So you told her about me."

"Well, yeah."

"Why?" She asks, and she's serious.

"Why not? You're a part of her life whether you want it or not."

She stays silent for a while.

"I want it." She says slowly. "These five years. They've been so fucking… I can't believe I did that."

Some parts of me just want to scream. _YOU can't believe? I can't believe._ But I don't.

"I know." Is all I manage.

"But I had to. You know that, right?" She says, and it stings me to the core.

Ladies and gentlemen. Old on to your walkers and top hats.

"You _had _to? Oh, spare me the bullshit, F." It's way bitter. And it takes me way back.

She gives me a cold hard look before she nods softly.

"Fine." She breathes and reaches out to grab my shirt collar.

She pulls me close and when her face isn't even an inch away, she smirks and sticks her leg out in between my own.

"Truth is…" She starts, and I kiss her.

I kiss her. Me. So here I go again, wondering what my mental illness is. Because lets face it: I wouldn't have done that if I were legally sane. Can you blame me? My last little encounter was with Dave, the PE teacher that Terry didn't like, so it didn't last. The things I do for that kid.

Faith moans into the kiss and brings her knee up a bit so that… Oh, god.


	11. Chapter 11

**A. N.** So here we go again, another chapter of mind numbing confusion. Actually, this doesn't solve much, but it does keep the story going, and this incredibly long day is finally coming to an end. Well, soon anyway. I noticed that alot of people are confused with Gravis and Faith's relationship. Hmm. Make it what you want it to be. These are Buffy's thoughts and she doesn't know either, so... No inside scoop for you! Mwah ha! I am the inside scoop Nazi! Mwah ha! Just try to stop me. Okay... that was... uncalled for and totally crazy. Sorry. Here's the deal, or as Faith would say, sitch. Gravis and Faith are basically the same types of people (although he is quite a nice guy). They're just (as I've explained to some of you) happy go lucky. They roll with the punches. And it works for them. They're secure. And come on. They're both hot and they know it.

**A. N. 2.** I've taken a few liberties here. Argh! Okay, so Faith is from Boston, and her last name was recently revealed as Lehane, so I guess it's not a far cry to suppose that maybe she's got some Irish blood... Also, I've eliminated Kennedy from the new Scoobs, because, well, I didn't really gel to her. Hmm... what else? Maybe just two chapters left after this one, including an epilogue. So, I've got another cameo in this chap, because I couldn't fit everyone in the last chap, as hard as I tried. Slipped in a few ED references that should be easy to find for all the ED fans out there. No cameos awarded tho, as I fear everyone will find these. Anyway, I've yapped enough. Happy reading!

_Trace -- buffymorpher2000_

* * *

A few weeks after Terry was born, Faith called Andrew over to baby-sit and dragged me out of the house to have a night of fun. Christmas had been nice but busy as everything and everyone had somehow ended up at our place for the holidays. So a few days after Christmas, Faith and I ended up in an Irish pub with a plan to rid my growing cabin fever. 

After we had a few shots and pints, Faith got up and led me to the smallish—but deserted—dance floor, and started to go all Michael Flatley on me, minus the tapping.

"Where the hell did you learn that?" I asked, clearly impressed. I really was.

She grabbed my hand and made me twirl with the beat of the music.

"Song's called Fairytale of New York, and every self respected kid from Boston with Irish blood should know it." She explained, pulling me close and hopping to the edge of the floor and back. "Dance moves just come with it." She added with a growing smile, making me twirl again. "When Teresa's old enough, I'll make sure she knows it too."

That's when I knew Faith would be—against all odds—an excellent mother. Guess I was a little off the track of reason. Or drunk. Whatever. Same diff.

Faith hikes her knee up to create a little more pressure, which in turn makes me groan, and thus, snaps me back to reality, and the present.

Whoa Nelly. I pull back for some much needed air and study her carefully. When I see her now, I wonder how I could've let her walk away. She's so damn easy to look at. She's sporting her 'I want you' look, looking all hot and bothered, eyes heavy with want. It's good to know I still got 'it'.

And suddenly, a very pertinent question floods my mind.

"What?" She breathes, brushing away a strand of my hair. "What's wrong?"

_What? What's wrong?_ Time to voice that question, I suppose.

"The hell are we doing?" I manage, as I pull my face away, somewhat reluctantly. "Gravis and Terry are waiting for us."

Her breath gets caught in her throat as she—I think—snaps out of it too.

"I know. But I'm not the one humping my leg."

She thrusts her knee up a bit more to prove her point and smiles languidly as my eyes go wide when I realize I'm practically saddled on her leg. Heat of the moment, my ass.

So I jump off, as gracefully as I can, and straighten my shirt with my now sweaty hands.

"Been awhile?" She asks, not with cockiness, as I would've thought, but with the barest hint of concern.

"How long have we been in here?" I ask: A poor attempt to change the subject.

Faith cocks her head and checks her watch.

"Few minutes."

Feels like hours. Both of us end up in front of the mirror, tidying ourselves up as best we can when suddenly, my mouth starts playing tricks on me again.

"Do you really miss me?"

"Buffy." It's a feral plea and it makes my knees quiver.

"Do you?" I pursue.

"Don't you?"

_Argh!_ Why is it that Faith and I can never ever have a revealing conversation without the word games? I swear, she makes me so… barmy.

"Faith. Don't do this. Not now."

Her eyes narrow as she nods. The half nod again.

"I'm not the one who left. I don't have two jobs, working six days a week. I didn't quit drinking. I didn't find Mr. Perfect. I didn't leave, Faith. I didn't. I'm still right here. So you can stop… humbling me."

We stare at each other through the mirror until she looks away, whispering my name softly.

"Buffy." It's so soft and… perfect. The way it should be said. But I'm still way too mad to fall for it.

"Oh, fuck me; we're going to talk until we say something." I warn, pleadingly. "I have a right to know, damnit."

"Okay." She murmurs. "Tonight."

"Tonight! Faith, Teresa and I are going to be long gone by tonight."

And then, just like that, I loose the upper hand I had gained, only a few moments ago.

"Fine. You wanna talk? Let's talk. Cause, God knows, everything that needs to be said can be said in a matter of seconds." She bites back sarcastically. "And I really feel like doing that with a mob of angry women banging on the door."

She doesn't spare me another look before she unlocks the door and swings it open. There are about a dozen women standing, waiting to come in, including the one who went to fetch some ice.

Faith walks out and I can't help but follow her back to our table before accepting an ice pack. Ter and Gravis are drawing on brown paper. They both look up and give us toothy grins. Okay, this guy has got me. Hooked.

"We didn't know what you wanted so we ordered the family sized fajita platter." He says.

_Family._

"Great." Faith says, suddenly full of enthusiasm. "What are you guys drawing?" She asks, taking a seat.

Terry's eyes beam when she looks up.

"A castle taken under siege by vampires." She explains casually, and it just hits me now how cool Ter seems to be with Faith.

Faith smiles as she peers over the drawing. I finally take a seat next to Ter and Faith's eyes land in mine before going back to our daughter.

"That looks pretty awesome." She says. "How's about you and Mommy stay over at our house tonight?"

"Really?" Ter and Gravis say at the same time, but without the same tone.

"Yeah." Faith shrugs.

Teresa nods and turns her head to look at me. She gives me a warm smile and a wink before placing her little hand over mine. I try to smile back but it ends up broken, so I let my mind wonder when the food will arrive. Fighting—especially with Faith—whether it be physical or verbal, has always made me hungry and…

* * *

Faith and Gravis live in this spanking new condominium building, in Pasadena South. It looks to be about a dozen floors high, and the side rooms have these huge loft-like windows that go all the way up to the high ceilings. Either Faith makes a killing working for Giles and Robin, or Gravis inherited a shitload of money. Between the mechanic who repairs rusty old Dodge Neons and the chick who helps save the world once in awhile, my money's on the chick. And I'm not just saying that because I used to sleep with her. 

Gravis hasn't said anything since dinner, and it makes me wonder exactly what his relationship with Faith really entails. I mean, he's been nothing but cordial with Terry and me, and he's shown some signs of love and affection towards his girlfriend, but they've only been just that. Signs. As for Faith, who knows what she's thinking, or even playing? I haven't seen any real demonstration of warmth towards him, except for the chaste kiss she planted on his lips this morning. And I know that was done out of pure trepidation.

"Hey Trace." Faith says to the gatekeeper as we walk out of the garage.

"Miss Lehane. Mister Page." The gatekeeper says in a neutral voice. "Beautiful evening, is it not?"

A gatekeeper! In Pasadena! M-O-N-E-Why? 'Cause they got it. Okay... That was a Xander moment. I admit it.

"Busy night?" Gravis says, finally breaking out of his repenting silence.

The gatekeeper smiles politely before nodding Teresa's direction.

"Nothing worth this visit."

Faith smiles and places a hand on Terry's shoulder in a maternal fashion that I've yet to see tonight.

"Trace, this here is my daughter, Terry." She says as Gravis walks on away from us, to the front doors.

"It is a pleasure, Terry." Trace says as Ter giggles into her hands. "Have a wonderful night."

Faith nods and motions us to walk to the doors in which Gravis has disappeared.

The inside is rich but not glamorous. It's very simple, but it's just screaming "I have taste!" The elevator is a typical loft elevator, open from all sides but for a gate in the front. There are fifteen floors, and Faith presses the button '15'.

"Where's 13?" Terry asks me, holding onto my hand. She's never been a fan of elevators.

"There is no thirteenth floor. It's considered bad luck." I explain, my voice cold and distant.

Terry frowns but stays silent as Faith leans against the back beam before the elevator begins its climb. I don't know why I'm so bitter all of a sudden. Dinner was actually livable, and the ride here was done in an odd comforting silence as Terry watched the night lights roll by through her backseat window.

But now… Being here. I dunno. I guess it kind of reminds me of the time I barged into Faith's apartment with a plan to kill her. It kinda looked like this. But that was almost fifteen years ago. It shouldn't be affecting me like this, should it? _For God's sake, you're 32, Buffy. Not 18._

The gate opens up and Faith leads the way to a burgundy door with the number 1A printed on. She opens it up, and leads the way inside.

"This is it. Come in." She says softly, as if she's suddenly unsure of this whole deal.

Gravis' smiles our way before walking, barefooted, to the open kitchen. He swings the door to the stainless steel fridge and grabs himself a soda before walking out again, into what I presume is the master bedroom. But before he walks in, he turns around and nods in Faith's direction. There's soft music coming from the room, and if my music knowledge doesn't escape me, it sounds like Heart.

"I'm gonna turn in. Leave you guys some time to… talk. G'night." He says. "Night Terry."

"Good night Gravis!" Ter waves, and then yawns herself.

All three of us just stand there, not knowing where to start and where to begin. I swear, if I knew what today had planned for us, I would've just stayed in bed. Motherly duties be damned.

Terry yawns again and leans her head against my thigh. It's been a pretty big day for her too. Faith notices and decides to start talking.

"Hum, let me show you where you guys can crash."

She leads us to a spare bedroom equipped with a double bed and a simple dresser. It's a nice room, painted a deep shade of green, with various prints hanging on the wall. There's one of the whole gang, taken a few days after Sunnydale. There's also one of Spike, Faith and I, a few days before Terry was born, on the back porch at the house in Lenwood. Our house. One of Angel and Faith standing in front of some muscle car; looking very much like soul survivors. And finally, a more recent shot, of the whole revamped Scoobies, minus me, plus Faith, Vi, Robin, Andrew and a few faces I don't recognize.

"Nice. Thanks." I say softly.

"Bathroom's just across there. Sleep well Baby T." She says before retreating backwards, closing the door.

Terry and I just stand there, by the door, before I snap out of whatever trance I was in.

"Let's get you to bed, Missy."

Teresa gives me a tired pout but nods just the same. After I help her clean up and change into her somewhat clean beachwear, I quickly usher her into the warm bed, and sit down next to her. Her eyes are heavy and struggling to stay open as she stifles yawn after yawn.

"Mommy?" She says drowsily, laying her head on the pillow.

"Ter?" I say as I brush some of her hair from her face.

"What's going to happen tomorrow?" She asks, another frown taking place on her brow.

_I wish I knew, Babe._ What do you answer to that? What do you tell your innocent six year old? Do you lie and say that everything will be chocolate cake and daisies? Or do you give her the honest truth that scares the crap out of you?

Willow once told me that kids will believe anything you tell them. But they'll also remember everything you ever tell them. So you can lie to them, but you always run the chance of it coming back to bite you in the ass. So, in light of that, I've never spared Teresa anything, unless I thought it too complicated for her to understand. But this… This is even too complicated for me to understand, but it's something that Terry deserves to know. So. The truth it is.

"I wish I knew, Babe." I voice out quite honestly and unsure of myself.

She sighs and shuts her brown eyes before opening them again.

"Sweet dreams, sweetheart." I kiss her forehead and gingerly get up to affront the long awaited talk.

"Mommy?" She says again, and I turn around to face her. "Can you stay here with me?"

I smile and nod and expel the breath I was holding in. So I snuggle in next to her, holding her gently like I've done countless times before, laying my head behind hers, and gently laying my chin on her small shoulder. Before long, she falls asleep, wiped out from the tired day, and leaves me awake, thinking of our average life.

The average house we live in. The average high school where I teach and Terry's average primary school. The average neighborly friends we have. The average car I drive. The average salary I make as a counselor and self defense instructor. The average life we lead.

And it makes me think about Faith. About her above average boyfriend. Her above average job. Her above average condo. Her above average… everything. And it shouldn't, but it does: It humbles me. And I hate loving her for it.

I get up softly, careful not to wake Teresa up, and notice for the first time the picture on the bedside table. It was taken on the back porch of our house. In it, Terry's about ten months old, and is held by Faith, sitting sideways on the lower wooden steps. It was taken maybe two weeks before she left. I know, 'cause I remember taking that picture.

My eyes water, but I quickly dry them with my sweater sleeve, and make my way to the door. I open it and shut it softly behind me and make my way to the sitting room, where I know she's waiting for me. And there she is, sitting on the couch lazily, but I can tell that she's really tense. She's staring out of the big window and I just lean back against the corner of the wall. Finally, she turns her gaze my way and does the half nod thing.

"You good?" She says, shaking her head like that wasn't what she had meant to say.

"Yeah."

"She asleep?"

"Yeah. She was really wiped."

She nods softly and scoots a little to the left of the couch, inviting me to sit next to her. It's a dangerous move, but it needs to be done. I don't think what we have to say to each other can be said from across a coffee table. So I do. I take the seat and envelop myself in the scent of it. It smells like home. I take a swallow as we look at each other apprehensively.

"Look, I know you got questions, and for a long time, I didn't think I could ever be able to answer them." She starts off. "But I'm willing to give it a try. For Teresa."

"For Teresa." I agree, and know I'm in for a long night.


	12. Chapter 12

**A. N.** Last chapter before the epilogue. Hope you enjoy it all. Wasn't easy to write. Hmm. For once, I have nothing to add. Hmm. Maybe in the epilogue. Hopefully.

**A. N. 2.** Thanks for everyone who stuck by this story. Yes, even those of you who didn't review. Ha!Ha! Love you all. You guys are great.

* * *

I've got the radio blaring, a kid buckled in the backseat, and a massive hangover. How's that for a not so typical Sunday morning?

I can see Teresa in the rearview mirror, sipping at the juice box Gravis gave her this morning before we left. She's hiding behind his Ray-Bans that are forever going to be on loan. Hiding. I know she's disappointed and upset, but she doesn't let her true feelings show: She just hides them away from me. Clever. She gets that from both of us.

I can hear the familiar sound of the juice box being emptied over Jakob Dylan's cynical voice and I just know that Terry and I will be due for a pit stop. Fifteen minutes after our initial departure.

"Mommy…" She starts as I steer the car into the parking lot of a roadside diner.

"I know."

We walk in and I notice the sign that says **Washrooms for paying customers only**. Meh, I need some caffeine anyway. So we find the women's washroom, use it, and find ourselves a table by a window. Terry's sulking, and I know why, but I pretend not to.

"You hungry, Kiddo?" I ask as we wait for the server.

She sways her head left and right vigorously.

"Okay." I whisper, looking down at the small breakfast menu. Truth is, I'm not hungry either, but I know that if I don't get something in my stomach soon, I won't be a happy person.

All the words on the menu sort of blend together as my mind inadvertently rehashes last nights conversation.

* * *

_I let myself sink further into the couch as she looks at me in anticipation._

"_So?" She says in a soft, husky voice._

_I nod. This is it. The moment I've been waiting for. Here goes nothing._

"_Where did you go?" My first question of the night. First of many, I suppose. "I mean, after you left."_

_She smiles painfully towards the window and blinks rapidly a few times. They say a person is lyingwhen they blink a lot or don't look you in the eye. And it's true. I see it everyday with the kids that come to see me. The blinking. The staring at the stupid objects that clutter my desk. But with Faith… It's the complete opposite. Go figure._

"_I went to L. A." She sighs. "I was hoping to find Angel, but I didn't. I don't really know what I would've told him if I had seen him, but… I felt like he would've known what to do."_

_I nod, encouraging her to go on, and she does, still staring out the window. There's a chair outside, and for the first time, I notice the balcony._

"_So I called Rob. Told him I was coming. Council paid for my flight and a few days later, Giles assigned me to lead the Special Ops division. Was nice, but it wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to protect _her._ So he partnered me up with Manny, some rookie Watcher, and gave us all the skinny he had on the prophesy."_

_As she pauses again, I simply stare at her. I don't nod or anything. I'm too afraid of fucking this up to even move._

"_So what happens is that Manny reads and researches, and sends me away to look into things." She says, finally turning away from the window. She lands her eyes into mine and for a split second I feel like an idiot. I'm not quite sure why._

"_There's always some new shit that comes up. I haven't really stopped since I started."_

"_Well, Terry's never been in any…" I bite my tongue before the word _danger_ escapes my mouth,' cause I know Faith knows. "So I guess you've been doing a bang-up job." _

"_I know." She whispers._

_And it makes me smile. There's the cockiness I've missed._

"_So you get your weekends off?" I ask, suddenly feeling at ease._

"_Yeah. Come back here on Friday afternoons. Work for Gravis when I want to. Leave Monday mornings."_

"_Sweet deal."_

"_Yeah." She agrees softly, but there's something in her voice that makes me wonder if she means it._

* * *

The bill comes up to $5.75. _Tessa's homemade lemon meringue pie. Try it!_ is printed at the bottom, right next to _You have been served by: Tessa._ I look up and catch Teresa smiling for the first time this morning.

"Time to go?" She asks, placing the enormous Ray-Bans on the bridge of her little nose.

"Time to go." I smile back.

We get up after I leave 8 bucks on the table and down my lukewarm coffee. Ter catches my hand with hers and squeezes it gently.

"Next stop?" She asks as she jumps into the now oven hot car.

"Next stop, home."

"Home." Terry agrees, and I'm sure it sounds way corny, but it makes my heart beat a little faster.

* * *

"_D'you really give Gravis that scar?"_

"_What do you think?"_

"_Either you let him off easy, or he got lucky, escaping with just the scar."_

"_It's a pretty massive scar."_

"_Yeah."_

"_Never thought we'd end up living together."_

"_Do you love him?"_

"…"

"_He loves you. It's obvious."_

* * *

"Roll your window down, Ter."

Stupid, finicky, air conditioner. Of course it chooses the hottest of days to go on the blink. There isn't a cloud in the sky, and the sun's hotter than I ever remember it being. Record summer heat is seriously overrated.

"Can I have a popsicle?" Ter asks, staring at the passing highway poles.

"When we get home." I answer, getting the front windows down and the sun roof open. "Maybe Daisy'll want to come over for lunch."

"Maybe." Terry answers dejectedly, and I know who she'd rather have over for lunch.

* * *

_The night is warm and nice. Even from the fifteenth floor, you can hear the crickets buzzing around on the ground, fussing about the heat. The stars are out and the sky is clear. There's no moon. We're sitting on the balcony, sharing a bottle of beer that was just supposed to be for me. _

_Faith is sitting on a deck chair, with her feet lazily propped up on the patio table. I'm doing the same. _

_She pulls a worn out Lucky Strike pack from out of nowhere and takes one out and props it into her pursed lips. She then throws me the pack and I do the same and light up with my own lighter._

"_That pack's been at war and back." I notice as I throw it back. "Maybe you should get a permanent one. Metal."_

"_Don't wanna do that. I'm down to three a day." She says, expelling a thread of smoke into the night._

_Of course. It's the missing piece that makes me look like trash. Faith trying to quit smoking. I hope to God it's the final piece._

"_How long you been sober?" I ask, chugging down the remnants of the bottle. "I mean, before tonight."_

_Faith sighs and reaches down and comes back up triumphantly with another bottle._

"_Seven months and thirteen days." She shrugs as she twists the cap off and takes a swallow before handing me the bottle._

"_And you're just breaking that? Like that?" I ask, swallowing my own share. "Why?"_

"_Figure tonight can be an exception." She shrugs again, placing the cigarette in an ashtray before locking her eyes on mine. _"_Something like this doesn't happen every day."_

* * *

It's the Oldies show on the radio, and The Bangles are belting out Manic Monday out on the airwaves. It's a sad moment when you realize that songs you grew up with make an appearance on the Oldies show.

Teresa has fallen asleep behind her sunglasses and her Pals'n'Gals Double Digest, leaving me humming alone. _Wish it was Sunday / That's my fun day / S'just another manic Monday._

The sign on the road up ahead informs me that I've got 16 miles to go before I reach the outskirts of Lenwood. We're making good time, and we'll be home before noon. Which is of the good. I can't imagine myself in this car any longer.

Traffic gets heavier as we slowly approach the boonies of the boonies. Church goers going back home.

Manic Monday finishes softly and is replaced with something I've never even heard of when my mobile starts to dance along the dash. I smile when I read off the caller ID.

"Hey Uncle Al." I answer, and smirk when I notice Teresa waking up at the sound of Xander's nickname.

"You know, everyone's calling me that now. Even Giles. It's creepy."

"What's up, Xand?" I chuckle as I swerve past some random road kill on the side of the road. I push the speaker phone button and prop the mobile into the cup holder. "How's Madagascar?"

"I'm actually in Nepal with Ry. Helping Will out with some things." He says. "Just thought I'd check up on my favourite girls."

"Uncle Al!" Terry hollers from the back.

"Hey Pumpkin!" Xander acknowledges. "Am I on speaker phone?"

"Yep." Terry giggles.

"Don't tell me Dawn called you." I say.

"Dawn? Dawn who?"

"Xander." I warn.

"Fine." He sighs. "She told me everything. How did it go?"

It takes me a moment before I find an answer.

"It was… nice."

* * *

"_Did you sleep with Jo?"_

"_Who?"_

"_The Stetson wearing sister." I say, finishing another bottle, and peeling off the label._

"_You met her?"_

"_Briefly."_

"_Take it you don't like her, huh?" Faith says, and off my steely gaze, she explains herself. "She came on to me when we first met, but… I couldn't do that to…" She doesn't finish and I take it upon myself to do it for her._

"_To Gravis."_

"_To you." She whispers. "I couldn't do that to you."_

_And that's all it takes for my heart to leap into my throat._

"_Faith…" I feel like I'm going to be sick. For doubting her? Or maybe it's the beer._

_This time she's the one asking the questions._

"_Do you ever think of you an' me?" She asks, lighting up her fifth cigarette of the night. She's gone way past her three._

All the time.

"_Sometimes." I lie._

"_Really?" She says, like she's surprised. "Does Terry ever… Does she ask about me?"_

_I stare at her, and suddenly realize what she must be going through. Here's a girl who never had anything, and when she finally did, she didn't know what to do with it. So she did what she thought was right. _

_I smile and nod and she gladly accepts that as a valid answer. She hands me another bottle and I just stare at it, wondering how she can drink so much._

"_Remember how I used to be? Well, turns out I'm kinda the same." She says with a small smile, as if reading my mind. "I haven't changed, B."_

* * *

"What do you want for lunch, Ter?" I ask as we drive by the grocery store.

"I dunno." She says. "Something cold."

I laugh and catch my eyes in the rearview mirror. They're happy. Terry smiles and kicks her feet against the back of the passenger seat.

"Are you happy, Mommy?" She asks softly.

I take my time to answer. I think about Xander's phone call. About Gravis. About Dawn. About Teresa. About _her._

"I think I might be, Ter." I say, and she nods in approval.

"Good." She says wisely. "Do we have any orange popsicles left?"

We only have grape and cherry left, so I make a turn and drive into the grocery store's parking lot.

* * *

"_Why'd you kiss me in the washroom?" She asks, slowly looking me in the eye._

"_Same reason you kissed me this morning." I answer, turning away to face the night._

"_Maybe you give me something that I can believe in." She says, still staring at me, and I suddenly feel naked. "And that's more than I can give to you."_

"_I still love you." It comes out soft and under my breath, but she still catches it._

"_Dunno why." Faith responds as she gets to her feet, somewhat unsteadily. "Should be the other way around. Somehow."_

_She collects the bottles and places them in a row by the patio door._

"_What do you wish for?" I ask as she leans her back against the glass door. _

_She takes her time answering, checking her nails, running her hand through her hair, flicking the patio lights off. _

"_Faith?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_What do you wish for?" I try again._

_This time, she doesn't hesitate._

"_To be free… From you."_

* * *

I turn the key in the lock and Ter and I are greeted with a wave of cool air. Thank whoever it is I should thank for A/C. Ter runs inside and goes straight upstairs into her room.

"Ter? You gonna go see if Daisy'll come over?"

"In a minute."

I put our things away and make my way into the kitchen to prepare lunch. _Are you happy, Mommy?_ Yeah. I think maybe I am. _What do you wish for?_

I grab the portable phone and dial.

"Tatooine Pizzeria."

"Andrew. It's only funny the first time you do that."

"Hey Buffy."

"Hey. Is Dawn around?"

"Actually she's gone to the grocery store."

"I was just wondering what you guys had planned for next weekend."

"Is that an invitation to come over?" He wonders and I can just picture him stroking his chin lightly.

"Maybe."

"I'm pretty sure we can make it. I'll get Dawn to call you back to confirm."

"Thanks Andy."

I hang up and stare out the window. _What do you wish for?_ _Are you happy, Mommy? Are you?_

* * *

_My watch says it's just a little past six o'clock and I stifle a groan. A pounding headache, three hours of broken sleep and a tongue that feels like cardboard. Great. _

_Terry tosses and turns and finally opens her eyes._

"_Morning." I manage, trying not to scare her with my horrible morning breath._

_She doesn't say anything. She just sits up and jumps off the bed. She slips her feet into her sandals and sits on the floor, patiently waiting for me._

_I run my hands over my top to smooth the creases and fix my hair up lazily with one of Ter's hair elastics._

"_We should go." I tell her, and she doesn't say anything, she just opens the door and makes her way out of the room._

_We get as far as the kitchen before we're caught._

"_You heading out?" Gravis says and I catch my breath when I see him._

_He's wearing sweats and no top. Good God. He finishes a glass of orange juice and wipes his mouth slowly with the back of his hand. _

"_Yeah." I whisper. "Think maybe it's better if we do."_

_He nods and leans against the fridge. Then he thinks of something and heads over to what I'm assuming is the pantry, because he fishes out two juice boxes and two granola bars._

"_For the road." He explains._

_I nod in thanks and usher Teresa to the door. He opens it and squats down to his knees to give Ter a hug. _

"_Your sunglasses." Ter says, handing them over._

_He smirks._

"_It'll still be sunny out there." He says and she smiles._

"_Ter, why don't you go ahead and press the button for the elevator. I'll be there in a sec."_

_She nods and gives Gravis another smile before running down the hall._

"_Have a good talk last night?" He says, shifting his weight to his other foot. "I didn't hear her come to bed."_

_I give him a small smile and look into his eyes. "Yeah."_

_He nods and smiles._

"_You know Teresa is welcome anytime."_

"_I know." I manage as I reach down to grab our bag. "Thanks."_

_I'm half way to the elevator before I hear his voice again._

"_Buffy!" He calls out, and I stop, but don't turn around. "There's only one she'll ever love, and I'm a fool for pretending it's me."_

_My head lowers down and I stare at my shoes. I hear the closing of the door, and try to hold in the tears that are threatening to spill._

"_Mommy!" Teresa calls out. "The elevator."_

_I look up and give her a small smile. My grip on the bag tightens as I walk towards her, feeling myself lighten with every step I take._


	13. Epilogue

**A. N. **So alternate ending of sorts. This is what Im thinking it could be. I mean, dont read too much into this. If you want a happy ending, read on. If you were satisfied with the previous chapter, by all means stick with that one. Or something like that.

**A. N. 2.** Im going to finish TT before starting the spin off... And to answer a few of you: Yes. I have decided slip our two fave Slayers in there somewhere. Maybe even Baby T. Anyway, thats it for now. Its been a blast! You all rock. So, in that spirit... Huh, Rock On!

* * *

Gravis hands me the drying towel before plunging his hands in the soapy dishwater. His sleeves are rolled up clumsily, and his short hair has a few pillow licks. He looks horrible. I guess he took the break-up pretty hard.

I have to admit I was quite shocked when he appeared on the doorstep with red eyes and a bottle of wine. His feeble "Can I crash for dinner?" was weak and uninspired. He didn't say anything else until the middle of dinner when he abruptly announced that he and Faith had broken up. Dawn choked on a piece of broccoli, Andrew spat out a mouthful of beer, and Teresa just stared at him in disbelief. I don't really know what my reaction was like. I guess I kinda knew all along. Knew that something wasn't right. I mean, what can you say or think when your ex's boyfriend shows up unexpectedly, all disheveled like? Especially since I only met him a few weeks ago.

So right after we finished dinner, I urged Dawn and Andy to take Terry out for some ice cream, to give us some time. I guess doing the dishes is the best way to talk, since he started towards the sink right away.

"Youbrokeher." He states, scrubbing a plate weakly. "No dishwasher?" He mumbles after that, looking down at the cupboards.

"I—what, sorry?" I ask as I wrinkle my nose involuntarily.

"You broke her." He says again, this time with more clarity. He stops washing and stares out the kitchen window.

_I did what now? Break her? When the fuck did I drop her?_ Don't get me wrong. Gravis is a nice guy. The kind of guy you bring home to meet your parents. The kind of guy who'll give you the shirt off his back if you ask him to. The kind of guy you don't stumble across everyday. The perfect guy. _You broke her._ He just doesn't seem like the kind of guy who'd blame someone else for his problems.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound like a… It's just…" He says, casting a glance to the time on the microwave. "Ever since you guys talked she's been acting…" He starts as he places a plate in the dish rack. "She comes home in the middle of the night, most of the times, drunk, she doesn't tell me where she's been, smokes more than ever, sulks when she's not killing the equipment in the gym—" He explains, and I stop him before he can go further.

"Stop." I say as I lay the towel on my shoulder, and lean against the counter. "All of that… well maybe not all of that, but most of it is kinda normal for her."

Gravis stops washing and lands his eyes into mine. Like he's trying to read me, but not succeeding. He gives me a tired smile and sways his head slowly in slight amusement as if he doesn't believe me.

"Without all those things, Faith is like an Oreo cookie without the creamy frosting in the middle." And I really need to ease off of the cookie references.

"So what are you telling me? That really you fixed her?" His head falls into a stray of light and I can see how exhausted he really looks. He hasn't shaven in awhile, he's got bags underneath his eyes and the tip of his nose is flaking with dry skin. There's a sudden pang in my gut that's urging me to comfort him like I would've liked to have been when the same thing happened to me.

"And I'm trying, you know, to like, eighty-six it from my mind, but it's like… like I can't." He says, renewing his washing effort with some gusto.

"Did you move out?" I ask, drying a few forks and knives.

He sways his head before sighing. "No." He brings a finger to scratch his nose, and leaves a trail of dish soap by his mouth. "I just can't seem to."

"Oh." None of this is making sense to me. Tonight started out just fine. Normal Saturday night dinner with Dawn and Andy. Dinner and a movie. Why can't anything ever just stick with the plan? I don't need any more deviance in my life, thank you very much.

News that Faith is single again and in a sinking ship isn't the best thing that could happen to me. _Fuck Faith. Why'd you have to go break his heart? He loves you. Just like I did. Like I do. _I mean, what does this mean? That she'll be running the bars before landing another Gravis-type? Or worse—a Buffy-type?

"You should go see her." He says, nodding. "Yeah. That's what I think you should do." He says, agreeing with himself.

"Should I now."

"Isn't that what you want?" He asks in an innocent way, scrubbing away vigorously. I don't think he even realizes what he's implying. "Want for Terry?" He adds.

Okay. Maybe he knows what he's saying.

"Look. Gravis." My hand has somehow found itself on his right shoulder, and I affectionately give it a slight squeeze. "After that weekend, I… I figured out that I could be happy without her. It took me five years to figure it out, but I finally did. And I am. Happy, I mean. And now… Now you come over with this…" I break off as I try to find the word I'm looking for, but he beats me to it.

"This opportunity to make you happier." He finishes softly, giving me a sad smile.

_There's only one she'll ever love, and I'm a fool for pretending it's me._ Oh, Gravis.

"She's not happy, Buffy. I can't stand seeing her this way." _And I'm not the one who can fix her._ "And as much as I hate saying this, I'm not the one who'll make everything right as rain again."

There's an awkward silence as we both absorb what he just said before he starts wiping down the counter top with the dish rag.

"What's in it for you?" It's so soft; I don't even think I said it out loud. But he heard it 'cause he's swaying his head in despair.

"Bring her home." He says slowly. "Come with me and bring her back home."

* * *

Sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision that night. Wonder if it was for the best. Wonder what our lives would be like if I hadn't done what I did. And then the wondering stops. Because it could never be as good as it is now.

Terry just smiled when we walked through the front door. She smiled and Faith started to cry. Only the second time I had seen her cry. And it was beautiful. Ter's smile turned into laughter as she jumped into Faith's arms and wrapped her arms around her neck lovingly. And then I started to cry. And Ter laughed harder.

"Mommy. Don't be silly." She said. I still don't know who she was talking to. But I don't care. _Mommy, don't be silly._ Never. Never again.


End file.
